Preservation
by GratefulInsomniac
Summary: Sequel to "Too Lost to be Found." House and Cuddy try to maintain the life they've built for themselves and their children when the outside world comes to them. Includes Ava, Jack and Kate.
1. School's Out

_A/N-This is the sequel to Too Lost to be Found. If you haven't read it, this story probably won't make much sense because a hell of a lot happened in that story that changed things. House and Cuddy spent tons of time hashing out their old hurts…and now they're here. _

_I was hesitant to pick this up again because it's tough to write a story with kids in it. Everyone has opinions about child rearing, etc. Please…this is just a fictional story…not a manual for raising children. The focus of the story is still on House and Cuddy, not on the kids.  
_

_This is five years after Too Lost ended. I'll try to fill in the gaps as the story progresses, and I actually intend on inserting some flashbacks when appropriate to give insight into what's been going on over the years since the last fic ended.  
_

_I'll shoot for 3-4 updates per week. As usual, there will be adult content in some chapters, I'll put a disclaimer before each of those chapters. Thank you in advance to everyone who is returning to this story. __OK…hope you guys like this one! Here's Monday's edition, a little early. (I'll try to get the next out by Tuesday.)_  


**_DISCLAIMER-Applies to the enter story. I don't own the characters of House, MD. I do own Kate, Jack, Ava, Celia, and all of the original characters that wander through their lives._**

* * *

House and Cuddy's Diagnostic Center of the Lesser Antilles in Barbados had grown significantly over the years. Med students and residents from all over the world came to study with them, and there were a number of doctors on staff. These med students had the opportunity to learn about diagnostics, but also staffed the clinic that was opened for the locals. House didn't work a single day in the clinic. Cuddy credited her insistence on permanently removing him from clinic duty as one of the major reasons why they were still happily married.

Celia was House's very devoted personal assistant. The old local man she began dating when she moved to Barbados died only a year after their arrival. Celia was crushed, having endured the deaths of both men that she had loved. She was seldom seen in the two weeks after his passing, but showed up one Monday morning, prim and proper and ready to work. She called herself House's personal facilitator. Of course she also made sure that paperwork was done. With the perfect balance of enabling and tough love, House's paperwork had never been so timely and organized. She became the new town gossip after the loss of her beau, and she often had fellow gossipers visiting at her desk.

Kate was quite smitten with the children she considered her niece and nephew, and the horrors of Ava's early childhood haunted Kate. She opened a facility for child victims of violence, and for the people who were caring for those children, so they could help the victims heal after the atrocities they had survived. When she approached House and Cuddy with the idea of opening her center, they agreed, and Kate hired on staff of her own.

House was sorting through emails on his computer. Chase sent frequent updates and case files, so that House had the first pick of cases as they came in for consideration. He looked up at the clock a few times, unable to concentrate, while he waited for Ava and Jack to burst into the office, signaling the end of the day. The days he was in the office, the kids, still affectionately known as the 'Duo of Evil' by their father, would always stop at the center to see if one or both of their parents were able to come home for the day. They weren't supposed to arrive for at least fifteen more minutes to save him from the tedium of work.

House stood from his chair, grabbed his cane, and limped to Kate's office in the hopes that she was still there for the day. When he flung open the door to her office, Kate was seated at her desk, looking at her computer, with a stereotypically beautiful med student leaning over her shoulder. After he took a few steps into the office, House said, "Are you able to walk on your own or do you need Kate's back to hold up your enormous fake breasts?"

The med student, Rebecca Parker stood, hand on her hip, and said, "I don't see how that's _your_ business."

"It _is_ my business if you're here…in this office…I figured you'd want to take your breasts with you, but fine. Leave them on her back…I still need the _rest of you_ to go."

Parker left the room, slowly, casually walking past House and out the door.

"Does she seriously think she's _that_ hot?" House asked as he sat in the chair directly in front of Kate's desk.

"She _is _that hot. So…yea, I'm guessing she's thinking that," Kate said without looking up from her monitor.

"Needy and desperate…is not hot. Besides, Mel would probably not be overjoyed if she saw Ms. Tits-in-face hanging all over you."

"I thought you said her breasts were on my back."

"Mel would know that you could just turn around and Parker's tits would be where they clearly wanted to be."

Kate sat back in her chair, finally relinquishing her stare on the monitor. "Which would require me to turn around. A decision made on _my_ part...Mel knows I'm not into turning around." Kate smirked, and flipped around the monitor so House could see the image, "We were looking at a brain scan."

"Because your computer is the only place to view scans here…I forgot that was all we could afford," House said as he looked to his side at two large display monitors.

"She's a student. You know I don't cross that line."

"I know," House conceded. "However, Parker, the queen of needy insecurity, doesn't care about your lines."

"Why do you dislike her so much?"

"Because I don't trust her. And she is not _nearly_ as hot as she thinks she is," House answered quietly.

"I don't trust her either," she smiled at House. "You should be happy, I think you irritate the hell out of her."

"My charming personality doesn't suit her?"

"It's not even that," Kate shrugged. "She strutted around in front of you for the first two weeks she was here, trying to get your attention. You couldn't give her so much as decent look over. I think she's been feeling extra insecure ever since."

They could hear the muffled shout of Celia happily greeting someone on the other side of the door in the waiting area, "Oh, no, don't run past me like I'm not here! You get your two little white butts over here and hug your grandmamma."

Before House could reply to Kate, a knock came from low on the door. Kate smiled and went to the door, peeking out, looking around at her own eye level and refusing to look down at the smiling boy a few feet shorter, waiting on the other side. "Hello?" Kate said as she opened the door wider and looked around erratically in every direction except down, and Jack slipped past her legs and ran to his father. It was the last day of school for the year.

Jack was five, and very much the combination of his parents. He had thick chestnut hair and wide grey eyes, but was tall and lean, for his age. He was bright, and already eagerly athletic. Jack's expression looked exactly like his mother's when he was deep in thought, and exactly like his father's when he smiled, a fact that few people knew because so few people had ever seen House _really_ smile. House blamed Jack's overtly social behavior on Cuddy.

Jack adored his older sister to such a degree that, when she began school, House said Jack tried to follow her like an 'Ava-seeking-missile,' nearly impossible to deter. When he wasn't allowed to go to school, Jack tried to learn everything he needed to be enrolled with her. From the time he was very small, he always seemed impacted by the moods of those around him. When his father's leg was more painful than usual, when Ava felt uncomfortable in someone's presence, when Cuddy was stressed from work, Jack felt their discomfort. Jack was a living lie detector and mood ring combined in one energetic child.

Jack smiled up at House with a wide grin and held out a paper. "You failed all of your classes, didn't you?" House accused sarcastically as he looked at his son's final report card for the year. Five year-olds at his school received updates on skills and growth, and not actual grades.

"Yup," Jack said, still grinning.

House looked over the series of positive remarks on the report card and held up a hand to high five the child. Jack reached his hand back, wound up, and slapped his father's significantly larger hand with as much force as he could mount. Jack did well in school thus far, although he was clearly more interested in exploring outside and socializing than he was at learning at his desk.

"Where's Ava?" House asked Jack.

Jack shrugged.

"Did she walk here with you?"

Jack nodded, "Ah course."

House stood, knowing where he'd find Ava, while Jack stayed with Kate. When House entered his office, the eight year-old was sitting on the sofa. Ava's pile of blond curls was stacked on her head, always half mussed no matter what Cuddy tried to do to tame them each morning. Ava adored her brother with as much totality as he adored her. She was fiercely protective of him, and also enjoyed tormenting him, as all truly good big sisters should. In quiet moments, Ava's gentleness and love for her brother were evident. Ava looked at her father briefly, her pale blue eyes settling on him for one moment before she looked down. He sat down next her, one hand still propped on his cane and said, "Hey."

"Hey," Ava answered back softly.

"Everything OK?"

Ava handed him her report card. House kept shaking his head in disbelief as he looked over the grades. She had straight A's. Earlier in the year, and every year prior, her grades hovered in mediocrity. "What happened?" he asked.

"You guys said I could pick the next field trip if I got better grades. So, I got better grades."

"You could do better," House responded, staring at the paper, until she smacked his arm.

"Da-aad," she said, dragging out the word and smirking widely at him as she took the evidence of her academic success from his hands.

"You know, now that you've proven that you can do _this_ well, you've raised the bar. I would have shot for B's…kept expectations lower."

The smirk dropped off of Ava's face and he jabbed her arm softly with his elbow, "I'm kidding, I'm really impressed. Not _surprised…_but impressed. You did a really good job."

She smiled at him again, but he could tell she was already thinking about the expectations she created with her success.

House wasn't concerned about Ava's grades, she always passed and he regularly insisted that no college in the world was going to be concerned with whether or not she had good grades in primary school.

The frustrating part for Cuddy was that Ava was _brilliant_. She often astounded even her own parents with her ability to learn and apply concepts with incredible ease and make discoveries on her own. She read everything she could get her hands on with remarkable speed and retention. Plus, Ava noticed _everything_. From the minutest details, she catalogued the things that went on around her. Between House's nearly all-seeing presence, Jack's developed sense of empathy, and Ava's keen observation, few things occurred unnoticed. Cuddy regularly joked that there were no secrets in their home, but the joke wasn't nearly as funny as it was accurate.

Cuddy entered House's office a few minutes later, with Jack holding her hand. She taught one class,_ Endocrinology in Diagnostics_, Wednesday afternoons, and they usually met up in House's office once she was done. She dropped, tired, onto the sofa next to House. "Hey guys," she said to both of the kids, who handed her their report cards. Before looking at the papers, she turned to House, and with a delicate smile and an affectionate voice said simply, "Hey."

"Hey," he answered back, mirroring her smile as he looked at her for just a few seconds. After their years together, even their greetings were still subtly filled with both admiration and flirtation.

"Ew," Ava complained, "You guys are so gross."

"Ew," Jack mimicked, probably more because his sister did than for any other reason.

Cuddy waved one hand up to cease their protest. "How would you like me to greet your father?" Cuddy playfully punched House's shoulder and said in a deeper, doltish voice, "Hiya!"

Jack giggled and Ava rolled her eyes, "That's still gross."

"Ya know…that's my favorite of your pickup lines," House said, smirking at Cuddy while she looked back with amusement.

Redirecting her attention to her children, Cuddy shrugged, "Trust me, it would be worse for you guys if we hated each other."

That day, Cuddy's class actually worked with patients in their clinic and diagnostics center, so she wasn't wearing a tight skirt, cleavage baring top and sky high heels. On days like those, she usually wore scrubs and sneakers with her hair tied back, her dress professional and utilitarian. _Unintentionally sexy_ was House's favorite look on her. "Who were _you_ playing doctor with?" House teased.

Cuddy half-chuckled and kissed his scruffy cheek. Her focus turned back to the boy in front of her when Jack tapped on the report cards in her hand. She smiled at her son and then looked down at the papers. "Jack, wow!" Cuddy said, pulling the boy into her lap for a hug after she reviewed the assessment. "You did great, buddy!"

He smiled proudly before he got down and headed to the corner to play. House's office was filled with toys that he claimed were for the kids. They enjoyed them also. Cuddy looked at Ava and took a deep breath. Ava's report card was one of very few things mother and daughter argued about. Cuddy struggled to find the balance between trying to encourage Ava to do her best, while trying to avoid putting too much pressure on her, but she knew the girl certainly wasn't working to her potential. Cuddy wanted to avoid the argument that occurred when Ava received her last report card, so she had been preparing to receive the results.

Cuddy looked at the paper and shook her head, "What happened?" she asked, repeating the same phrase that House used when he saw the results of Ava's work.

Ava shrugged. House caught Cuddy's gaze, "She wants to pick the next field trip. We told her she could if she did better."

"Definitely," Cuddy nodded, hugging Ava.

Ava leaned into Cuddy's shoulder for a hug. Cuddy dreaded the day when Ava would start to decide she was too cool or too old for her mother's affection. In spite of her abused past, Ava was very affectionate with her family, including her doting aunts Kate and Mel, but was sufficiently wary of strangers. Years earlier, when Cuddy asked House what they should do about Ava's suspicion of outsiders, he answered simply, "We shouldn't do anything, she _should_ be wary of outsiders."

"Where do you want to go?" Cuddy asked Ava, who smiled back.

"Can we go back…to Philadelphia? See grandma and everyone?"

House and Cuddy both tried to hide their grimaces. They took the kids on two trips each year. One for the winter break, and one for the longer summer break, as they had agreed to shortly after Jack was born. They tried to keep the promises that they made early on: avoiding lies, balancing work with play, and trying to educate their children through experiences. Although the children attended school, there was no shortage of bizarre science experiments in the kitchen or digging along the shoreline to look for wildlife in the surf.

Cuddy and House devotedly avoided going "home." Neither cared much for returning to the US. There were friends and family still there, but they often paid for travel expenses for their family to come to Barbados, rather than returning, just to avoid going there. Their pictures of Rachel on the walls, and celebrations of her milestones helped Cuddy and House to feel like they were honoring her memory without visiting the cemetery, although whenever they were back, they stopped. The visits to New Jersey or Pennsylvania were usually short, perfunctory stops at the places they had to go, usually leaving the kids overnight with Kate or Celia as they'd try to fly out one day for an event, and return to Barbados the next day. Since they arrived in their new home, their decades of unhappiness and bad luck seemed to slip increasingly away from their minds, and they associated so much pain and heartache with their former residences.

Cuddy coaxed Ava, "You can go almost _anywhere_."

"I know!" Ava said happily, "and I want to go there. We have our own place, what's the point in having it if we don't use it."

Their home in Philadelphia, the large apartment in a refurbished old factory, was, in fact, still theirs. Much like House's apartment in earlier years, they had someone come in to clean and maintain, but very seldom visited it themselves. If something came up with Cuddy's family, they had a place to stay. House actually rented out his old apartment to one of Chase's fellows, with the stipulation that he could stop by if he ever wanted to, although his attachment to the place waned once he had his piano removed and he felt a sense of permanence in his new life.

"You seriously, want to go _there_?" House asked.

"If you guys don't want to…" Ava said with disappointment.

"No, it was an agreement," Cuddy said, nodding with certainty. "We told you that you could pick. If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do."

Ava grinned and practically trotted over to join her brother.

House and Cuddy exchanged pained glances, "We have two weeks to get ready for this," Cuddy said quietly to him.

He nodded.

They were walking out of the clinic a few minutes later, taking the short journey back home, with the kids and Kate in tow. Jack and Ava loved Wednesday nights. Their parents faithfully kept their Wednesday nights to themselves, except for one night when Ava and Jack were both very sick and truly miserable, and another time when there was a case they simply couldn't leave. There were a few nights when date night was shorter, or earlier, or later, but it was one of the promises they tried to keep to each other. They were still devoted to carrying on their passionate affair over the years, sneaking hidden moments and arranging secret trysts, still 'cheating on each other, with each other,' whenever they could.

One night, when they had a terrible fight, reminiscent of their old fights, Kate showed up to babysit. House thought Cuddy was going to storm out of there, Cuddy thought House was going to do the same. She stood in front of him, and said, softly, "Are you coming?"

That was one of the moments in both of their minds that demonstrated that they were larger than their disagreements, and that they wanted to endure no matter what they faced. They went for their date that night, and the argument that had been so filled with venom and rage was resolved without either of them permanently damaging each other. They still fought, they were both stubborn and opinionated people. The difference, of course, from the past was their willingness to find resolution. Most date nights, they acted as if they were the only human beings on the planet.

Their neighbors usually smirked and giggled at them when they'd walk down the path, or ride their moped on Wednesday nights to some remote location. They were known for their admiration for each other, as well as their avoidance of outsiders, and really did nothing to deny that to anyone. Many people who showed up their clinic would ask for their secrets to a happy marriage. Ironically, when asked, either of them would roll their eyes or scoff, because, although they had years of successful marriage, they never saw themselves as models for a loving relationship.

When they got home, the kids were already ignoring them in favor of cooking with Kate. Jack loved Kate's silliness, Ava loved the hour she had alone with Kate after her brother went to bed, which she envisioned as girl time between buddies.

After five years of marriage, Cuddy still showered, dressed and primped on Wednesday nights as if she was going on a first date. House still selected a location or activity for them. He often teased her about her primping, with assurances that he was still a 'sure thing.' He appreciated that she still felt he was important enough to impress. She appreciated that he still cared enough to make a plan for them.

House sat on the small porch at the front of their home, waiting for Cuddy. As usual, the weather was warm but not hot, and there was a consistent ocean breeze drifting up the hillside where they lived. His feet were up on the railing and he was relaxing, playing a game on his phone and occasionally rattling the ice in his glass. Cuddy stepped out onto the porch, "Are you _finally_ ready?" she jabbed.

He finished his drink and looked her over, checking out her form in the new casual blue dress that she was wearing, and her neatly curled and styled hair, but appreciating her warm and affectionate smile most of all. He answered, "Give me a few more minutes, I still have to wax."

She smiled at him as she stood in front of him, leaning on the railing, arms loosely crossed. "I always say, 'smooth as House's ass on a Wednesday night,'" she joked.

"Excuse me, folks…" they heard from the gravel path in front of their home.

House's smile faded, he grabbed his cane and stood. "Who in the hell's that?" he whispered as he looked beyond Cuddy, nodding toward an old man who was slowly making his way toward them.

There were occasionally locals who would find them at home in times of emergency, but the man who was approaching them had a taxi waiting on the paved street at the bottom of the hill, and he certainly didn't look like a local. House leaned on the railing next to Cuddy, trying to figure out the identity of this stranger. "Looking for Greg House," the old man said, his voice scratchy and garbled with age.

Cuddy tensed next to House, turning around to see for herself who was speaking. History had taught them to be wary of strangers, much like Ava, and part of Cuddy often worried that some crazy person with a gun would show up and shoot him. History had also taught them that such things were possible. Cuddy walked to the opening of the porch, arms still folded, as the old man nodded a hello. "I'm looking for Gregory House. Does he live here?" he asked.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Frank Callahan, I need his expertise."


	2. Trespass

_A/N-Thanks you so much for the reviews everyone, I was so excited to hear that people are still interested in this story! Thanks to all of the reviewers who helped me kick this story off: itzaboo, dmarchl21, IHeartHouseCuddy, OldSFfan, LapizSilkwood, Mon Fogel, Alltheloveintheworld, precioussouldandsweetcheeksi in1, Percy's Gadzooks, limptulip, Mima Huddy, grouchysnarky, Bakerstreet Blues, Truth, huddyholic, jkarr, 6cbrilhante, Suzieqlondon, housebound, JLCH, TheHouseWitch, Josam, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, IwuvHouse, KiwiClare, Anonymous, LoveMyHouse, AussieFan12, hughsoulingregsmind, justlobe, newdayz, CaptainK8, and ClareBear14._

_-I'm trying to update again tomorrow.  
_

* * *

When the old man was directly in front of her, Cuddy already knew in the pit of her stomach exactly who he was. So did House. If there was any doubt, when the old man introduced himself as 'Frank Callahan,' their suspicions were confirmed. He was tall, thin, probably in his eighties. He had a strong angular jaw, thin white hair and piercing blue eyes. In spite of his age, and his slender frame, there was something that seemed persistently strong about the man.

House stood next to Cuddy, at first suspicious that this was some sort of game or trick being played on him. "I have a medical mystery," the old man added. "He likes medical mysteries, I'm told."

"Cases have to be submitted via email or back at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey through Dr. Robert Chase, I can give you his contact information," she responded, part of her wondering if she had misjudged the man's identity, "He only takes a few cases each year."

"He'll take this case."

"Why's that?" Cuddy asked.

"Everyone knows who you are," Callahan said, looking right past Cuddy and engaging House directly, "And everyone knows you're smart enough to know who I am." Callahan held a hand out to Cuddy, which she shook hesitantly. "You must be his wife. I read an article on your Diagnostics Center...said that he moved here with his family. I'm his father."

"Not so sure about that. Your name isn't on my birth certificate, and…I'm pretty sure you weren't the guy who kept telling me to sit down and shut up," House said coldly.

He hid his feelings well, House looked calm and composed, but his insides were unsteady as irritation and curiosity battled each other in his mind.

"Well, I'm sure you already know the circumstances of your birth. We're adults here, of course. I'm sure you also know, those were different times."

"How did you know where to find me?" House asked, ignoring Callahan's statement.

"I may be old, but I know how to use the internet," Callahan answered with a smile. "Could you get me a drink?" he asked Cuddy.

"This isn't a restaurant, and she's not a waitress," House answered for her.

"OK," Callahan answered, looking away uncomfortably.

His voice was so raspy that it was difficult to understand. "It's OK, House," she said, softly touching his forearm. "You want another drink?"

House nodded, "Thank you."

"Ice tea, water, scotch?" she asked the older man.

"Water, thank you," Callahan nodded.

Cuddy disappeared inside for a moment. "Your wife calls you by your surname?" Callahan inquired.

"What's the case? And why do I want it?" House asked, ignoring the question.

"My grandson is sick. I'd like to bring him here."

"Sick?" House answered gruffly, "_Oh_, well that explains it. You should have started with that pertinent piece of information. So few people that ask for my help are _sick_."

Callahan smirked, "I've actually heard you're kind of a smartass. You get that from me."

"My smartassedness was cultivated over time. You can't become this much of an asshole without working at it. It's not genetic."

Cuddy emerged from the door, already hearing House's defenses being raised, seeing the tightness in his shoulders and back, his overall posture, such a stark contrast from the relaxed man who sat waiting for her on the porch a few minutes earlier. She handed the water to Callahan, and a glass of scotch to House.

"He's my _grandson_. Your brother's son. Surely that means _something_," Callahan continued.

"Not really," House shrugged nonchalantly.

House stared at him, still trying to decide if his curiosity about the old man outweighed his desire to get away. His mind settled on the fact that his mother shared with him years earlier: Callahan didn't know of House's existence. Realizing that it wasn't Callahan's choice to be absent from House's childhood, it was a decision made by Blythe independently, House decided to allow Callahan a chance.

They spoke for a few minutes about symptoms, about Callahan's grandson's illness, and family medical history, finding comfort in the familiar challenge of diagnostics. Callahan's grandson was waiting in a hotel near the airport with a nurse. Callahan took a huge gamble in bringing his grandson so far, hoping that they'd agree to take the case. House finally said, "You can bring him in tomorrow morning. I'll check it out."

"Thank you," the old man said with relief, as he reached out to shake House's hand. House looked down and swirled the ice in his glass to avoid the gesture. Callahan started to walk away and House said calmly, "When did you speak to my mother?"

"I haven't," Callahan answered, "not for years."

"If you didn't speak to my mom…how did you know who to search for?" House asked.

"What you mean?" the old man asked with confusion. "I knew your _name_. I tried to keep track of you."

"So you inferred. Used dates? When did you figure it all out?" House acknowledged that it wouldn't be difficult to figure out the truth of his paternity for anyone with even moderate intelligence.

"Figured it out? No, I _knew_. Of course I knew." Callahan grabbed a wrinkled envelope from his back pants pocket and held it out. House took it and dumped a small pile of photos into his hand: House's baby picture, a few early snapshots, several elementary school pictures, his senior class photo.

"How'd you get these?"

"Your mother sent most of them to me. I took a few myself, that one of you with your mother by the dogwood…I took that, it's near her childhood home. I was able to see you a few times early on, but once your family started to move farther away, it became more difficult. And when you started to talk, we worried you'd say something. I attended your High School Graduation. College too!" The old man sounded proud.

All that House could hear echoing in his head were Callahan's words, 'when you started to talk,' realizing that Callahan not only knew of his existence _long_ before John House ever raised a hand to him, but that he took steps to avoid admitting he had another child.

"When exactly did my mother tell you about me?"

"Oh, I don't know exactly, well before you were born. When I actually met you, I could hold you between my hand and elbow, that's how small you were. Then, I think right before your first birthday, your mother's husband was shipped off somewhere too far away for me to visit." Callahan spoke easily, without attachment or sentiment. "Why?"

"Did you know my father?" House asked.

"I don't understand. I'm your father. What's…"

"My dad. The man who raised me. Did you _know_ him?" House interrupted.

"I met him. We weren't friends, more knew of him. Sounds like he was a bit rough around the edges, uneducated."

House chuckled, bitterly, angrily, uncertain how to respond. Then he realized he had to go. He had to get out of there immediately. Hearing the blood rushing through his head in his ears, he paused, only momentarily, to look at Cuddy. His eyes were tense, and hurt, but his request was clearly conveyed without any words, 'Are you coming?'

He took long strides, cane in hand, attempting to brace the jarred impact of his retreat, and hoping that he wouldn't lose his balance as he moved quickly across the stone and gravel path in his attempt to escape. He shoved the envelope with the pictures stacked on top towards Callahan, uncertain if some or all of the pictures fell to the ground or were safely in the old man's hands.

Cuddy was immediately following him, and he stopped abruptly, turning over his shoulder just enough to be sure Callahan heard him. "Ten am, make sure your grandson's there. Bring his files or whatever you have with you," House grumbled before he continued his escape.

Cuddy knew where they were going. When life became overwhelming, they almost always went to the ocean, to watch the waves, sometimes to talk, sometimes to sit in silence. After their reunion years earlier, they began to really talk sitting by the ocean, they kissed, shared and plotted the possibilities of a life with one another. They sat by the ocean when Cuddy said her symbolic goodbye to Rachel, burning the tattered clothes the girl was wearing when she died, and they were by the ocean when they exchanged vows and were married. The place was significant and in its own way, safe, permanent, familiar in locations all over the world.

It wasn't a long walk, but the gravel path wasn't easy for House to navigate at such speeds, and the sand wasn't going to be much better. When they got near the water, House flopped onto a boulder along the edge of the sand, rather than even attempting to traverse such a treacherous surface.

Cuddy hadn't spoken. She knew he'd speak when he was ready. "He knew," House said softly into the breeze.

Cuddy nodded, sitting gracefully next to him, her arm brushing his just enough to be supportive, present but not weighty next to him.

"I gave him that. That he didn't know," House said, his voice tight and pained.

She wanted to wrap him in her arms, to comfort him, but she knew he wasn't ready to receive that type of comfort yet. They sat in silence for quite a while, House pressing down firmly on his pained thigh. Pained from tension, pained from an already long day, pained from the swift walk on unsteady ground to get to a safer place. The breeze that evening was strong, more of a blustery wind than a breeze, pressing and tugging at their clothing and whipping their hair. The waves crashed loudly, the only noise to interrupt the sound of the wind blowing across their ears.

A storm hovered in the distance, out over the water. There was a crisp division above, as blue was replaced by a threatening, massive, grey cloud and lightening flickered between spaces in the sky, occasionally stabbing toward the water. They had watched dozens of storms come their way on those beaches, and it was always an amazing sight. Cuddy gestured toward one of the bungalows along the beach's edge. There was one that looked unoccupied, so she directed them to the porch. She was getting ready to sit on the bench when House went to the door of the cabin and quickly picked the lock. He realized how distressed he must have looked, because Cuddy didn't even hesitate or attempt to persuade him from his activities.

Of course, the owners of the cabins knew them. Cuddy found the matriarch of the family weak and dizzy one day, and took her to the clinic, diagnosing a kidney infection that had developed from an untreated UTI. The family was always more than appreciative, so Cuddy wasn't terribly worried about the outcome if they were caught. Everyone knew the very private doctors and their small family, and most people received services from the clinic at some point.

Once they were inside, she opened the front windows, allowing the breeze from the storm to stir the stagnant air inside the building. They'd rented that very bungalow many times before for their Wednesday night dates. They'd had tons of passionate encounters there, filled the room with moans, sighs and gasps of pleasure. They both wished they were there for sex.

Callahan's arrival reached like an arm from the outside into their little world, and they both felt invaded upon. He felt safely hidden in the close little cabin with Cuddy, finally given a chance to process the thoughts in his head. Cuddy looked calm, but House knew, she wanted to destroy Callahan. Cuddy tried to teach her children acceptance and forgiveness, and was often very good at trying to see another point of view, but House knew, she held no compassion for Callahan once she realized that he allowed his own son to be raised by a man like John House. She could never allow her own children to experience such a life, knowing full well that, had John been alive when either Ava or Jack were with them, he never would have seen a single moment with them beyond the protective gaze of their parents.

She had wished, ever since she learned the truth about House's childhood, that she could take away the pain. That one night on the sofa in House's old apartment, when all of the pains that haunted his subconscious came forward and he allowed her to know the truth of his upbringing, changed her. The disclosure changed them both.

She directed him toward the bed so he could stretch out, and she tried to rub some of the pain away, kneading his thigh exactly as she had learned to over the years. When she began doing that for him, he hated it. It was fine to pay someone to do it, but to have someone do it out of compassion was entirely different. He never corrected or instructed her on what to do, always too appreciative of the attempt to complain, but she learned. She watched the things he would do, she tried different techniques, learning what helped him the most by his reactions. It wasn't often that she needed to care for him in that way, but when she did, she never looked at him with pity, usually electing to discuss something else entirely rather than bring any attention to their situation.

That night, with the ache in his chest and his leg, her eyes weren't full of pity, but they were full of sadness…and anger. When the worst of the twisting in his thigh subsided, he sat up, leaning against the headboard, pulling her next to him. "I'm fine," he said, his voice softer.

"I know," she said, her throat tight.

"You OK?" he asked.

"You're an idiot," she said sweetly, as if 'idiot' was a term of endearment rather than an insult, "This…is not about me."

He almost smiled, "You turn into some sort of vicious avenger when it comes to protecting your _Houses._"

She half chuckled. "It's not right," she said, her voice serious.

"I know," he replied, holding her tightly against him.

"It makes me so angry."

"I know."

They sat in silence, listening to the power of the storm outside of their temporary shelter. "Why are you taking the case?"

"The kid just got dragged half way across the world…it's not his fault. I'll just take a look. At least I'll have an accurate family medical history for me…for the kids." Cuddy immediately noticed that his almost perfect medical mind temporarily forgot that Ava was not biological progeny. "I guess it really only helps me and Jack," he said, a moment later, as his mind corrected his error.

"Why do you think she lied to me?" House asked.

Cuddy sighed, "Your mom? I'm guessing she didn't want you to get hurt. She was probably trying to protect you. And maybe Frank. And maybe your dad too."

House's head dipped, just a bit, his gaze falling.

"I didn't say it was a good reason," she added. "Just a reason."

House nodded.

After a long period of silence, he rolled his head to face her and allowed their mouths to softly meet. Their lips pressed gently, almost hesitantly, delicately, just so they could feel the reassurances and permanence of each other and the underlying sense of understanding. He backed up, his eyes still heavy with the weight of thought. Cuddy hated anything that made him look wounded. She always remembered when that look was the result of their interactions. "I need you," he said softly, speaking more of her presence than of sex.

She kissed him, pressing her body closer, so he could feel more of her against him. Neither of them believed they'd ever find a suitable replacement for their physical connection. They sought each other out in times of anger, celebration, boredom, and most specifically in moments of love or sadness. In moments of love, their beings were often swollen and full with sentiments that they would always have difficulty accurately expressing in words. In moments of sadness, they always found comfort without pity, reassurance without condescension, and a sense of certainty.

She sat back, "Let me run home for a minute, make sure the kids are OK, check in with Kate. Maybe we can stay down here tonight. I'll find Izzie in the morning, pay her for the room."

House nodded, knowing that Cuddy avoided any reference to the fact that she was making these arrangements because of his pain. She stood, and slipped her sandals back on her feet to leave. When she was at the door, he stood, "Wait, I'll come, let's just go home, less work for you."

"It'll only take a minute," she offered.

"I feel fine," he said, his gaze piercing through her cover.

"OK," she smiled.

She shut the windows and set the locks, the storm now mostly past them, but the night air much cooler than it had been before the storm. House's leg seemed to be functioning better since his rest and her massage, and they took a leisurely walk back home. As safe as their new home was, he still worried about Cuddy walking around in the dark on her own, and he knew he'd never forgive himself if something were to happen to her while he was resting in a bungalow by the ocean. Their years did nothing to quell his protectiveness. Or hers.

As they drew closer, they could see their peaceful home, lit by the flickering TV. The rooms of their children cast soft glows through the curtains of their bedroom windows, while nightlights kept away the worst of the darkness. House was glad they made the journey home for the night.

When they walked through the door, Kate was leaning back into the sofa, facing the TV, but sleeping soundly. Cuddy disappeared into the kitchen and House shoved Kate's legs down off of the coffee table, "Damn, you still can't give up the crazy life can you?" he teased as Kate sat up and stretched her arms.

"I saw you guys talking out the window. That man…was that…?" Kate asked looking up at him.

"Yup," House said.

"Has he known about you for a while?"

"Yup."

"He's finally coming to see you?"

"Yup."

"Which means he wants something from you?" she asked with contempt.

"Yup," House said with a nod.

"Did you tell him to go fuck himself?"

"Nope."

"He's a selfish bastard," Kate complained. "Nice he could finally own up when he needs something."

House nodded with acceptance as Cuddy came in the room. Kate told the couple, "Both kids went to sleep just fine. They guessed something was going on, they saw you guys chatting outside. I told them the truth: I wasn't sure what was going on."

"Thanks, Kate," Cuddy said, hugging their friend.

"See you guys tomorrow," Kate said as she started the two minute walk back to the home she shared with Mel.

They stopped by each of the kid's rooms. Jack, as usual, had his feet by the headboard, uncovered on top of his pillow, otherwise he was covered with more blankets than anyone else would have wanted. Jack liked covers, and as long as his feet were jutting out, he never seemed to become overheated. Cuddy rested a hand on her son while she kissed his head.

They stopped in Ava's room next. Her covers were never tucked, and she always had one sheet partially covering her, but hated to be weighed down with blankets. Even though Ava desperately wanted to look mature, when she was sleeping, she still looked so much like the toddler they first met: one hand under her cheek, one over her head, her legs curled up to her chest. Once in a while, her night terrors would strike, although it was a rare occurrence. When they did, little had changed from years earlier. Her father would always go to her room, he still picked her up and held her while her panic subsided, and breathing and heart rate would return to normal, waiting for her conscious mind to bring her back to reality. Those nights, she didn't care whether she looked mature for her age.

Cuddy placed one hand on her daughter and kissed her forehead. She did the same thing every night with both children shortly before going to bed herself.

* * *

_**-2 months after moving to Barbados-**_

_House had suspicions before, and he finally observed Cuddy's behavior three nights in a row, confirming the pattern. He chuckled after she shut the door to their bedroom. _

"_Were you…checking her vitals?" he asked, already teasing. _

_Cuddy shrugged._

"_You didn't work enough today…looking for ways to bring some stuff home?"_

_Cuddy shrugged again, still not answering._

"_Are you that worried?" he asked, his voice quieter._

"_No," she answered honestly. "It just makes me feel better to check."_

"_That's a little much, isn't it?" he asked, the tease returning slightly to his voice._

"_It's not like I'm drawing blood."_

_The gesture was simple. She'd always place her fingers softly at the pulse points in their necks, just briefly, just long enough to make sure things were functioning. Then her fingers would drift to their cheeks as she'd lean down, wait to feel their breath on the back of her hand or on her face, and then she'd gently kiss their foreheads. _

_"Tease me all you want," she finally surrendered, "Every night, I make sure they're breathing, their hearts are pumping, and they know they're loved."_

_He often joked with her about her ritual. The first night she worked late after that, he checked on them after they were asleep and returned to watch TV. The longer he sat there, the more he felt uneasy that Cuddy hadn't performed her check on them. Unable to concentrate on the show he was trying to watch, he got up and went first to Ava's room, and found his fingers stopping at the pulse point on her neck and his hand rested momentarily on her back to make sure she was breathing. When he was finally satisfied that she was fine, he kissed the top of his daughter's head and turned to leave the room, finding Cuddy, one hand on the jamb, standing in the doorway with a smile. "Oh, you're home," he whispered, looking exactly like he just got caught._

_Cuddy walked back toward their bedroom and he said, "I didn't check on Jack yet."_

_Cuddy smiled, "Go ahead, I'll get changed."_

_After he checked on Jack he went to their room, finding Cuddy there, getting ready for bed. House closed their door and immediately defended himself, "If something would have been wrong…"_

_He was cut off when Cuddy pulled him down to kiss him. "You think I'm going to make fun of you for caring for your children. That seems counterproductive, doesn't it?" she asked, squinting playfully. She was no longer kissing him, but her arms were still wrapped around him, her hands rubbing along his back. _

"_Huh?"_

"_I think it's sweet that you were checking on them. I love…that you love them. Mocking you for caring for them only discourages you from doing something that's good for them. And you. And me."_

_House was trying to continue the conversation while Cuddy slid out of the remainder of her clothing before pulling him forward by the belt. "You are so fucking sexy when you're confused," she whispered into his ear while she moved him closer to the bed, unfastening his belt and button.  
_

"_I'm not confused," he tried to sneer, but he sighed as her hand slipped into his jeans. _

"_Oh, I'm sorry, you wanted to talk about it?" she whispered, pulling her hand away from him._

"_Never," he smiled, taking her hand in his to direct it back into his jeans._

* * *

Sometimes small, seemingly insignificant moments reach far beyond the seconds it takes to live them.


	3. CommaZones

A/N-_thank you so much for all of the review since the last chapter: JLCH, Alltheloveintheworld, 6cbrilhante, IHeartHouseCuddy, TheHouseWitch, OldSFfan, Josam, jkarr, Bakerstreet Blues, Mima Huddy, newdayz, snatch565, Suzieqlondon, LiaHuddy, dmarchl21, bytesize, KiwiClare, southpaw2, limptulip, Alex, CaptainK8, Abby, HuddyGirl, Truth, Mon Fogel, IWuvHouse and the Anonymous Guest reviewers._

_Next chapter will be up on Friday._

_*This chapter includes adult content. If you don't like it, skip the beginning to the first line break._

* * *

The uncertainty that House felt earlier in the evening when faced with the unwelcomed presence of his biological father began to ease as he watched the comfortable familiarity of Cuddy checking in on their children before bed. In some ways, certain things hadn't changed that much for him over the years. He still preferred the quiet privacy of home, evenings with good food, games and music, but his circle had grown to include his small family.

He met Cuddy in the hallway and she took a breath before looking up at him, prepared to discuss the evening's events, but in the next moment he was kissing her. Her momentary surprise faded as he walked them back toward their bedroom, maneuvering cautiously through the hall. In their room, alone with Cuddy, his world was making sense again. The invasion of the outside world into their tranquil little universe didn't break them. It didn't take away their children, or damage their relationship. He slowly removed her clothing, while she removed his, and he paced himself to assert his own sense of control over the world, and at the same time, demonstrate his appreciation for her.

She pushed him onto the bed when they were both freed of their clothing. He pulled her toward him, cupping her breast with his hand, allowing his thumb to graze over her nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb before allowing his lips to travel, kissing slowly from the firm center of her chest, where he could feel bone beneath the skin, and moving slowly to the swell of her breast, feeling the stark contrast from the firmness of ribs to the softness of her breast. The skin, the flesh, silky and full beneath his lips and tongue and fingers, and then the rougher peaked nipple that he finally allowed his lips to rub over, merely moving his lips from side to side, grazing against her. When he finally tugged her nipple into his mouth she gasped, holding his head tightly between her hands and encouraging with words and barely audible sounds.

His fingers moved to her core to find the warmth he almost always sought. His mouth moved from her breast to her lips, warm and welcoming, so easy to disappear into indefinitely. Two of his fingers pressed steadily into her, as he sighed at her arousal, always filled with reassurance at her response to him. One hand at her heat, one at her breast and his lips on her mouth, he felt his need grow overwhelming. When she took control again, she pushed him back so he was flat on the bed, her hands just above his hips on his stomach, she pressed against him, allowing her heat to rub along the hardness of his arousal.

Each tried to exercise patience, anticipating the moment when they were finally joined. His heart skipped briefly when he saw her moving forward, when he felt her hand, guiding him inside of her. The sensation of filling her, of pressing insistently into her body, never grew old. Once he was finally buried inside her completely, she held still, leaning to kiss him, to share a moment of deeper intimacy while their bodies appreciated the sensations and grew accustomed to each other yet again.

She rocked softly, merely pulsing forward and back, creating subtle sensations and building desire. When she lifted up from him, almost completely, just barely maintaining the connection and roughly rocking back down, both of their eyes sealed shut in pleasure, their sounds quiet out of necessity, but charged in the need they communicated.

He felt things were moving too quickly again, and he wanted to slow the pace, he wanted to be inside of her all night, to make her want him so badly that she would never want to stop. He sat up so he could feel her stomach against his, her breasts on his chest, so he could wrap both arms tightly around her, and momentarily pin her tightly to him.

His hands moved to her hips, gripping them tightly, encouraging smaller movements of her body against his. His eyes went to hers and he placed quick kisses against her lips and chin and he said, his voice low with both emotion and truth, "I love you."

She slowed, and her look of pleasure faded slightly for a moment, "What?" she asked, furrowing her brow with confusion.

She was surprised, taken off guard. They knew how deeply they loved each other, although those sentiments were rarely said using those exact words or during physical intimacy. During sex, they typically chose words of want and desire, teases and banter, words of need and admiration, and even sentiments of love veiled behind different words. She smiled at him, seeing by the look on his face the depths of his sincerity. "God, House…I love you…I really do."

She began kissing him more deeply, her hips moving with increasing speed and force until he wondered if he could slow things down even if he wanted to, but he didn't want to any longer. He wanted to see the earlier sadness in her eyes fade, replaced with love, and filled with ecstasy.

She looked at him, her arms wrapped around him, wanting to savor the closeness every bit as much as he did, but when he caught her gaze again, he whispered, "I really do."

"I know," she responded with utter certainty.

He rolled her under him, filled with all of the intensity he had within him, his earlier pain forgotten as he found a rhythm, his pelvis pressing against her as he plunged repeatedly into her and she was soon consumed by her orgasm, her voice louder than it should have been, so he swallowed her cries, kissing her as forcefully and meaningfully as he was fucking her.

She was so beautiful as she unraveled, and her pleas for him to continue, her requests for him to come with her, to join her, scattered his brain and tempted his body, and his body finally lost the battle with his mind's control. He lowered onto her while her arms and legs tightly held him against her.

He didn't expect to sleep at all that night, but his body was exhausted and his mind temporarily at ease, so eventually they rolled on their sides and crashed into sleep.

* * *

House woke early, sneaking to the kitchen and making coffee before settling on the bench in front of his piano. It was, in fact, _his _piano. He insisted on having it shipped to Barbados, once it was clear they were there to stay. Shipping it was outrageously expensive, particularly given his strict instructions for care, and it took quite some time for it to arrive, but Cuddy could see the look of sheer joy on his face the day it arrived. His reaction made the whole process seem both worthwhile and necessary.

In a few hours, he would go to work, and Frank Callahan would be there with his grandson. House was dreading the interaction, wary of the feelings that might come flooding back to him. He was still torn between his own curiosity about who this man was, and the underlying sense of anger that he had meant so little to someone who should have cared.

By six, he heard Cuddy and Ava sneak quietly into the back yard. Ava asked Cuddy if she could start doing yoga with her in the mornings a few weeks earlier. Both Cuddy and Ava were early risers, and Cuddy was more than excited to share something so personally significant with her daughter. At six-thirty, Jack stumbled into the living room, and climbed slowly onto the couch. Facing the back, his knees tucked up to his chest, Jack started to go back to sleep to the sounds of his father's music. Jack was not a morning person. House played more softly and said, "Go back to bed. You don't have to get up early today, there's no school."

Jack sat up slowly and looked at House, his eyes growing serious as they bored through the haze. The child got up from the sofa, walked over to House and hopped on the bench. House concentrated on his music, on the sounds, the percussive feelings beneath his fingers, the reverberations in the air, hoping that Jack would ignore whatever he was noticing that roused him from his sleepiness. Just when House was convinced that Jack was fooled, he felt his son's small arms wind around his waist. House stopped playing, looked at Jack, and allowed Jack to see that he wasn't happy, but that he was OK. Sometimes it was best not to hide from the child, because he would become more concerned.

House sat on the bench for a few minutes with his son in silence. Jack finally said, "That guy outside last night. He made you sad?"

House nodded.

"Is he a bad man?" Jack asked. The question wasn't overdramatized, or naïve, it was an honest, to the point question, requiring a forthright answer. Like his sister, Jack seldom minced words.

House looked at the keys on his piano, trying to decide what the truth was. He was more likely to offer his children too much information, too much honesty, than avoid their questions, but House still wasn't sure exactly what he thought of Callahan. His eyes finally found Jack's. "I don't think so," House answered. "I don't think he's _bad_. But…I don't think he's great either."

Jack nodded and took a deep breath, looking serious, mature and uncertain. "Can I have some breakfast?" Jack asked, with sincerity, as if they hadn't just discussed something that was clearly heavy on both of their minds.

"Sure," House said, hefting himself up from the bench and making his way toward the kitchen. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Cereal."

House lifted Jack from the floor and sat him on the counter. Pulling out two boxes of cereal from the cabinet, House waited for Jack to make his selection. Jack looked at the boxes and said, "You said your dad is dead."

"He is," House answered, "Which cereal do you want?"

Jack poked one box of cereal and said, "Ava said she thinks that man's your dad."

"My dad died long before you were born. Before Ava was born too."

"He looks like your dad."

House took a deep breath, wishing Jack was staying truer to form and being his usual grouchy, sleepy morning self. "Dads…are more than the providers of half of your chromosomes. Dads…pour cereal and wipe nasty baby poop off your butt, and clean up after you when you spin around on that chair in my office so long that you puke."

Jack laughed, "That's gross."

"It would be grosser to _not_ clean up the puke…or leave the poop on your butt."

Jack laughed almost hysterically, his reaction to the lessening tension always open and welcoming. House took the jug of milk from the fridge, and grabbed a spoon from the drawer and prepared Jack's breakfast. Jack took a big spoonful, still sitting on the counter, and then said, "Did that man provide half of your comma-zones?"

House took a cautious breath, his chest lifting as it was filled with air. "Chromosomes. Yea, probably."

Jack was quiet while he shoved more cereal in his mouth and House got him some juice. "Do you wish he was your dad?"

House was stunned by the question, but shook his head, "Uhh. No. I don't."

Jack nodded.

After Jack finished his cereal, House helped his son down from the counter. Jack said, genuinely, "Thanks for the cereal. And for cleaning up the puke."

House nodded, smiling slightly, "Absolutely."

* * *

When Cuddy finished her final sun salutation, she noticed Ava sitting on her mat, just watching.

"You OK?" Cuddy asked Ava.

Ava nodded, "Why do you hate that man so much?"

Cuddy smiled, like House and Jack, when Ava was prepared to discuss a topic, there was usually very little pretense or warm up. "I don't _hate_ him," Cuddy responded, sitting on her own mat facing her daughter.

Ava cast a deeply incredulous look at Cuddy. Cuddy shrugged, "OK, I don't like him. But I don't hate him."

"Am I right, is he Dad's other father?"

"Perhaps…in a sense," Cuddy replied.

"Did he hurt Dad a lot?" Ava said, a look of sadness and understanding on her face.

Cuddy thought carefully as she sat cross-legged on the mat, her elbows on her knees. "Sometimes, people hurt us by not being there when we really need them. Does that make sense?"

Ava nodded. "Remember that teacher I had…when I started school. The one who was really old and mean, called me crazy after I had that nightmare during my nap?"

Cuddy's jaw clenched, mentally transported back to the teacher and her complete lack of understanding and compassion for the child.

"That's the look," Ava said with a little smile, pointing at Cuddy's face. "I knew that guy was not good, because that's how you looked at him, too. The same look you gave my teacher."

Cuddy smiled sadly. Ava got up and hugged her mom, patting her back. "I think it made Dad feel better. I know it makes me feel better. Dad says people shouldn't screw with us, because you're kinda vicious."

Cuddy laughed aloud, "Is _that_ what he says?"

Ava grinned, "He also said people are scared of him but they have it allllll wrong. 'Cause you're the tough one."

Cuddy looked thoroughly amused, "Don't believe all of the stories your father tells about me from the old hospital."

* * *

Ava and Jack were staying with Mel for the day while House and Cuddy finished up work. They planned to finish working over the next few days, spend some time relaxing at home, and then embark on their summer field trip as a family.

When they arrived in the office, Frank Callahan was already there, pacing in the open waiting room. "You're early," House said while he took his mail from Celia.

"I was hoping you'd want to get in early and get started," Callahan answered, "I'm sure you hate to be kept waiting. I'm never late."

House found Cuddy's eyes in a visual smirk. He seemed to have his confidence back, having faced the sadness and uncertaintly from the situation the night before, he felt more prepared to deal with the old man. He looked around the waiting room and said, "Where's the kid?"

"What kid?" Callahan asked.

"Your grandson…the reason you're here."

Callahan chuckled and pointed at a sickly looking man in the corner, clearly not a kid. The man in the corner was probably in his thirties, and House allowed his mind to calculate that Callahan's grown grandson was more age appropriate than House's own children were to him. House sighed and turned to Celia, asking her to admit the man for testing and gather the needed paperwork.

House and Cuddy retreated to their respective offices. Only a few moments later, Callahan walked into House's office. "They took Mike back already."

"Who?" House said, staring at his monitor, immediately irritated that now the old man was invading his office.

"Mike…your nephew."

"Mmm," House answered absently.

Callahan looked around the office, finally stopping in front of a collage of pictures that Celia gathered and hung for House, insisting that his office needed a touch of family.

"Your wife, she's beautiful," Callahan said, breaking the silence.

"I'll relay your compliment, and hopefully she'll finally get over her soul crushing insecurities," House sarcastically replied.

"She Jewish?" Callahan asked, pointing at a picture from Julia's daughter's bat mitzvah.

House closed his eyes and shook his head, "Are you concerned that I tainted the purity of your bloodline?"

"Of course not. I was just curious. My kids were all raised Catholic. Parochial school, mass on Sundays, the whole nine. So are you Jewish now?"

"No," House answered, trying to imagine himself attending parochial school as a child, forced into button downs and ties almost daily at an early age.

"Must be hard, raising children in a household with two different religions."

"Still easier than raising a child you don't see."

"You don't like me very much."

"I don't know you."

"OK," Callahan said, almost in surrender, agreeing to switch topics.

Callahan looked at the toys around House's office. "How many kids do you have?" Callahan asked.

"The ones that I admit are mine, or do you want me to include the ones I sired and left behind?"

Callahan smiled, "How many children in total do you have?"

"Two."

Callahan returned his attention to the photographs. "This…is your daughter. She looks just like us!" Callahan announced proudly, pointing at a photo of Ava.

House smirked to himself while the old man continued. "Your son, is he really yours?"

House looked up, "You thought that a safer topic of discussion would be my son's paternity?"

"He just doesn't look like a Callahan the way you and I and your daughter do."

Nearly every word in the old man's statement irritated House. "Celia!" House shouted from behind his desk.

Celia came in his office a few moments later, "You…hollered?"

"Can you send an email to Cuddy, ask her for a list of _all_ of the other guys she was screwing about oh…five…six years ago?"

Celia looked at him wide-eyed. "Hurry," House said, shooing her away. He turned his attention to Callahan, "Cuddy and I have this strange arrangement. It must be some Jewish custom," he answered with feigned sincerity, "Since we got married, and during the time immediately leading up to our wedding, we've only fucked each other. It saves a lot of questions when you find out your wife's knocked up."

"There's no need to be crude." Callahan answered, "I thought maybe your children were from previous marriages."

"Do you have the patient's files? Or know how I can get them?"

Callahan looked around, "Mike's files? They're being sent to you. His doctor at home is putting everything together."

House nodded, focusing back on his computer.

Cuddy entered the room a few minutes later, a printed email in hand. Assuming House was alone, she said, amusedly, "You need a list of all of the men that I had –quote 'marital relations' with –for the last six years? Do you need me to type up _all _of the names or can I just forward you your own email address?"

House's eyes smiled for a moment when she walked in and sat down in front of his desk. "Y'ok?" she asked.

Callahan was in the back corner of the room, so Cuddy didn't see him when she entered. "I feel we didn't really have a chance to get acquainted," the older man said from behind her.

She smiled regretfully at House, wishing that he wasn't dealing with the old man, invading his office. Cuddy stood from her chair and turned around. "I know," she said, facing him. "I'm sorry your grandson is ill."

House's phone rang and he answered it.

"How long have you two been married?" Callahan asked.

"Five years," Cuddy answered back. "And you?"

"My beloved wife's been dead almost ten years now."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Cuddy said, entirely uncomfortable with the discussion as House hung up the phone.

Celia entered the room, "Sir, I can take you to see your grandson," she said to Callahan.

Callahan nodded and, looking back at House, he said, "I know I keep saying the wrong things, I'm nervous. It's difficult for me…being here. I _am _trying."

Callahan left the room, following Celia. House had his head bent, looking uncomfortable and irritated. Cuddy walked over to him, "Tell me what I can do to make this less…uncomfortable for you."

"I just want to get this case over with," he said, "I'll do my part and then tell the guy to get lost. _Before_ mom gets here in a few days. I don't even feel like talking to her right now. Do you wanna work this case with me…help me get it out the door?"

Cuddy typically sat in on pieces of cases, offering advice and knowledge from her specialty, assisting in the DDX, but seldom worked an entire case from beginning to end. House would sometimes show up in her office and rant his way through a confusing problem, usually disappearing as quickly and erratically as he had arrived. Sometimes, she didn't have to say a word, other times, she'd crack the case for him, and his expression would change to one of deep admiration before he'd scatter from the room.

Cuddy nodded, "Sure…if you want me to."

"I want you to," he said. "I can't guarantee I'll be full of sunshine."

She shrugged, and he noticed there was no flippant comeback or attempt to lighten the mood. "I have a few meetings this morning, I'll clear them."

"Thanks," he nodded. "Oh, can you use your administrator magic and try to get this guy's files? They still aren't here, for all I know, they already have diagnosis…they just don't like it."


	4. Decisions

_A/N-thank you so much to all who are reading, and to the reviewers for this chapter: MsStevieCooper, Alltheloveintheworld, JLCH, jaybe61, IHeartHouseCuddy, Suzieqlondon, Bakerstreet Blues, CaptainK8, KiwiClare, OldSFfan, Josam, TheHouseWitch, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, IwuvHouse, ClareBear14, 6cbrilhante, Mon Fogel and housebound. _

_This one has another flashback, to fill in some blanks from over the years. This chapter and I spent a lot of time together…I hope you enjoy it._

_Nothing's changed in the past six months…I'm still a medical moron, so if there are any "case" mistakes, apologies to those who actually know about medicine. :)  
_

* * *

Getting Mike Callahan's health record was more complicated than Cuddy had expected. The name of the primary care physician provided by Frank was misspelled and the phone number wrong, and when Cuddy finally got through, the staff at the office stated that they'd need a special notarized release to provide the information. It took some time, but Cuddy actually was able to get all of the releases together, and the files were expected electronically by the end of the day.

Cuddy was frustrated, she didn't care for Frank Callahan, and felt truly that his presence was an unpleasant reminder of years past for House. For her, it was a glaring reminder of the things she desperately wished she could fix, but knew she could not. She was also trying to allow House to deal with the old man in whatever way he needed, but every protective cell in her body wanted to forcibly expel Frank from their lives.

Mike Callahan, however, was pleasant, for a sick man. He was patient, and when Cuddy had to repeatedly ask him for information, he didn't seem to mind at all. Mike looked as if he'd been sick for quite some time. His face was gaunt, eyes almost lost in his skull, and he was so undernourished that all of the edges of the joints in his elbows and ankles were painfully defined. Mike looked like he was probably quite handsome, when he was in better health. His skin tone was darker than the old man's, and his eyes deep brown, almost black. At nearly six and a half feet tall, he must have been, at one time, very imposing. By the time he arrived at the Center, he could barely sit up unaided.

Tired of waiting for files, Cuddy decided it was best to take the information from the patient, and conduct more of their own testing, hoping to narrow down the possibilities. When she was finished with Mike, she returned to House's office.

"I think it's HIV," she said calmly. "It makes sense. Extreme fatigue, weight loss, joint pain, he seems to pick up every opportunistic infection that walks past him."

"Symptoms of lots of things," House answered quietly as he gazed out his window.

"True, but, it would also explain your initial feeling that maybe they had a diagnosis, but they just didn't like it. Explains the mysterious holdup on the files. Maybe they brought him here so he could get treatment far away from home."

"Far from the judgments of _friends._" House answered.

"I think the cold symptoms are just the result of opportunistic infection. Anyway, I ran an HIV test, also screening for amyloidosis, sarcoidosis, cancer. I know it's a wider net than you usually like to cast, but without the files, we have to start somewhere. I'll screen the results, and if I see something I'll let you know."

"Thanks," he said, his attention drifting out the window.

The older Callahan, Frank, was pacing outside. Frank looked as if the weight of the world was on his very shoulders. There was something about the devotion of a man, aged as he was, going so far to find a cure for his grandson, which House couldn't help but admire. House knew that if it was his own child, he'd go to almost any lengths to find a cure.

House found that quality, that one redeeming thing, that made Frank more tolerable to him. Of course, there was also the realization that this old man would do anything to save a member of his family, someone he treasured, but yet couldn't find the time to seek out his situationally disowned child. It was a start. House got up and left the room, and Cuddy knew exactly where the he was going.

House squinted through the brightness of the outside as he approached Frank. "Still waiting on the files," House said, "Running some tests for now."

"Thank you," Frank answered.

"Does your grandson have HIV?"

"No," Frank said, in a way that made House believe him instantly, and he nodded, conveying his belief to the old man. "Why would you ask that?"

"Symptoms fit. And if you already knew and were hiding it, waiting on treatment isn't going to help him. Better to just tell me now, let me do what I can."

"If it was AIDS, I'd tell you." Frank turned toward House, and said, "Listen, I'm a physicist. I worked in labs and wrote papers all of my life. I'm not a PR guy. I know I said stuff that pissed you off…I'm not good with people. But, I'd like to meet your children…my grandchildren." Frank was blunt, earnest. "I'd like to get to know you while I'm here."

House looked at him, obviously weighing the various thoughts that went through his head. "Don't expect a warm welcome from the kids."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Frank said with a smile.

House walked with Frank down along the periphery of the building, enjoying the beautiful subtropical day. "You know, I knew your mother forever," Frank said after silence. "When I met her, I was fourteen years old. First day of high school. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I was positive I was going to marry her. Told her that before senior year. Losing her, over career…over one crazy argument, really…changed me."

House was watching intently. He could see Frank trying to read him, trying to tell if House was open to hearing about the past. Noticing that House clearly didn't mind, but actually seemed interested, the old man kept talking. "So many times I wished I just would have attempted reconciliation sooner. Made that little effort to try to get her back. To win her over. I didn't. Pride, anger, fear of what her response would be. Do you know what it's like to love someone forever that it seems you just can't have?"

House half smiled at the old man, waiting quietly for the conversation to continue.

"I met my wife, Naomi, the year after I lost your mother. So different from her. I didn't want anything that would remind me of Blythe, but, no matter how much I hated to admit it, I never stopped loving your mother. I loved my wife, too. I proposed to another woman, married her, we had a family, I had huge professional successes, lived decades, and I never stopped loving Blythe. It's hard…it's…confusing, loving two women. I know it's wrong, but I couldn't stop loving either of them. We had our reconciliation, your mother and I, but by then, I was already married, already had children. When I heard your mother was pregnant, at first…I was sort of happy. She was more than willing to break things off with her husband. I thought that our indiscretion could actually lead to something good…but the thought of hurting Naomi… I went home, prepared to tell my wife…prepared to tell her I was leaving. I can see it perfectly in my mind after all of these years. She was home, cooking, pregnant herself, my sons were on the floor of the kitchen banging pans and making all kinds of noise I could barely stand, and I knew. I couldn't leave them. I couldn't abandon Naomi like that. Your mother had a husband, someone to help ease the burden. I know it sounds...horrible. It was the only decision I felt I could make at the time. When I went to talk to your mother, to tell her that I couldn't leave my family, I expected her to be angry with me. But I found, she felt the same way. She didn't want my wife and three kids to suffer, and she certainly didn't want to hurt her husband. She did care so deeply for him. It was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever made. For her too. I know it's so easy to say it was wrong in retrospect, but…I don't even know what the right decision was."

Frank stopped, looking fully at House, prepared to accept his anger, frustration or sadness, open to whatever his own son was prepared to say, but what he found on House's face was the last thing he expected: acceptance.

House simply nodded, he didn't say anything to make the old man feel better, or worse. House just nodded, and resumed walking. After a few minutes he said, "John House will always be my father. I don't know how much you know or don't know, or what you may have heard about him. What I can tell you about him, was that he didn't let his wife and her bastard son out to starve. I respect my dad. I hate him sometimes, too."

"Do you hate me?"

"I understand the way you look out for your family. Bringing your grandson here…must have been difficult. As for you and my mother…you had to deal with an unwanted child…at least an unplanned one. You tried to make the best decision, but _you_ made one. The thing about making decisions with kids is…your decisions aren't just about you. Your choices impact an entire person who has no say in the matter," House shrugged. "I lived with your decision. Your decision became my reality…my everyday. But you, personally, weren't around enough to hate…or respect."

Frank nodded. An even sense of acceptance seemed to fall between them and they returned inside.

Walking back into his office and taking his seat, House thought about the irony of the fact that most people probably saw Frank Callahan or John House as fantastic fathers and husbands, while most people probably thought he would have been a terrible choice in either capacity.

* * *

_-3 weeks after the clinic opened-_

_It was already a rough day. Ava and Jack were up in turns overnight, sick and coughing, never really settling into sleep. Arlene was visiting, her first visit to their new home, and she had complained nonstop about the move, and how the consistent ocean breeze was probably responsible for making the children sick. On top of everything, there was a case, a dying patient, who certainly couldn't wait for a more convenient day to be cured. When they were reviewing test results, House and Cuddy had the smallest disagreement over the meaning of a symptom, which escalated into a full out fight, probably the worst they had since their move._

"_I really screwed up," House said, bustling into Kate's office._

"_Nonsense, you always look great in thigh-highs."_

"_With Cuddy."_

"_Give her a half hour to cool off, then do one of those…things…that she finds irresistibly charming."_

"_Won't work this time."_

"_What did you screw up?" Kate asked, dropping the files she was looking through._

"_I said something stupid. She seems more upset than usual."_

"_You're right, she's never heard you say something stupid before. She'll never recover," Kate answered sarcastically. "Seriously, she knows the difference between the stuff you say when you're fighting at work and the stuff you say at home."_

_House looked nervous. "Maybe there shouldn't be."_

"_Shouldn't be what?"_

"_A difference." House thought for a moment and then stood. "Thanks!" he shouted as he left her office._

_House found Cuddy in the lab, waiting over results. "When I tell you your ass looks good when we're at work, you don't just forget that when we get home."_

"_Of course I don't just forget about it. I cherish all of those sweet sentiments you share with me," she said dryly. _

"_I mean the stuff I say at work, isn't isolated from the rest of us. It's still me saying it."_

_Cuddy sighed, "Yes, it's still you. I count the _compliments _you give me at work toward your required quota for the day."_

"_No, that's not what I mean. I mean that…whether I say nice things, or less than nice things, you remember them, and you still know it's me saying them. You don't just…compartmentalize work me and home me…even if you try to."_

"_What's your point in all of this?"_

"_We still need to fight at work, but I want to try to remember that certain things carry over. I'll try to avoid…those embellishments on the argument that may make you unhappy."_

"_Me too," she sighed again, still staring at the table in front of her._

"_I mean, face it, when you called me an 'Overgrown Neanderthal' that's 'hung like a zebra,' do you really think that doesn't hurt?" he teased._

"_Don't remember using those exact words," she said, chuckling slightly. "As for the zebra thing…with the stripes it's hard not to make that comparison."_

_House chuckled back at her, relieved to hear her joking with him again. "I was hoping you could help me count my stripes tonight, if you're done being mad at me."_

"_I think you're taking the fight more seriously than I am."_

"_You've barely spoken to me all day," he countered.  
_

"_Not because of the fight."_

"_Then why?"_

"_Working."_

_It was then that House felt that familiar flush of panic, "Whose labs are those?" He knew they had residents running lab work for the patient. "Fuck, Cuddy, what's wrong?"_

_She turned around, "I think I screwed up."_

"_What happened?"_

"_I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."_

"_Just tell me what happened," he said, his face covered in worry.  
_

"_I missed a pill. And now I'm late."_

"_Late…late?" he said, utterly shocked by her disclosure._

"_Yea," she answered. "I figured you would have noticed. I thought maybe that's why you seemed…testy this morning."_

"_It's been kinda crazy between the kids and setting up shop here."_

"_I'm so sorry, House, I…"_

"_Don't be sorry," he said calmly. "I'm not…pissed."_

"_We can barely handle what we have!" she said nervously._

"_It's just because they're sick and your mother's here. In two days, you'll be talking about how easy it is again. You know how it is, the rough times…seem rougher…good times…seem great. Just a few days ago, we were talking about what naturals we are."_

"_I'm way too old, everything that happened when I was pregnant with Jack," Cuddy looked nearly panicked. "The worry, the preeclampsia, the hormone coaster…is all of this ringing a bell?"_

"_We handled all of that pretty well, while trying to adopt Ava. __We'd do what we could to manage the health risks. We love the kids," he said, calmly, "We would love another one just the same." _

"_Do you want another one?" she asked confused._

"_Umm," House said as he thought of the answer, "I didn't think about it. If it's there, then yea."_

"_If it's there?" she asked, amused._

"_I would never turn my back on you…or my kid."_

"_I know."_

_He picked her up onto the counter, standing between her legs and hugging her tightly to him, "I have this…" he bragged proudly, "I won it, and it's mine."_

_She smiled at him. _

"_This…" he said, his hands moving along her side, "Is what I want. So, whatever comes with it…is what I want."_

"_We agreed to stick with two."_

"_You're right. That settles it, we forgot to tell it the rules," he said nodding quickly, stepping away, and yelling at her abdomen, "Sorry, we already decided we just want the two."_

_Cuddy shook her head, shocked that she was laughing, shocked that she felt suddenly like things would be alright. _

_They heard the machine click behind them, signaling that the test results were complete. "We made this agreement long ago, same as last time…Whatever happens," House said calmly, nodding and returning to his spot against her._

"_Whatever happens," Cuddy nodded back. _

_The words unspoken were numerous, meaningful and mutually understood. She reached back for the test results and sighed, "Oh, thank god!" she said smiling, holding out a slip of paper with results that stated without a doubt that Cuddy was not pregnant._

"_I never thought I'd be happy to see a negative pregnancy test," she sighed._

_House breathed a deep sigh and then looked at her suspiciously, "Are you disappointed?"  
_

_"Not disappointed, but it wouldn't have been terrible. A__re you disappointed?" she asked._

"_No," House answered, hesitantly."It would have been OK. I mean, I wouldn't have minded. You were one, hot knocked up mama."  
_

_Cuddy smirked, "Thanks."  
_

_"If you want to try again," he started to offer.  
_

_"House, it's ridiculous. If we were fifteen years younger__…_then maybe. When I realized you were OK with it, I had a few seconds to flirt with the idea, and sure, there are nice things about it. You and I, together_…_have created some really beautiful things. But, as far as children, we need to be realistic. I'm so happy with what we have. And really, the best decision is to sit back and enjoy each other, and enjoy the kids we have. It's best for us, it's best for Ava and Jack because I don't want them to have to fight for our attention."  


_"Agreed."  
_

_"I thought I'd be alone forever, and now I have the kids, and you__…so I'm good. _It's the best decision for all involved."  


_"True. And we're just complete fools if we allow ourselves to be outnumbered," he plotted strategically._

_Cuddy laughed, "They already seem to have the upper hand."  
_

* * *

House was pulled back to the present moment while Cuddy entered his office, seeing House and Frank sitting together, appearing much less uncomfortable than they were earlier. When Cuddy smiled stiffly at Frank, he excused himself to walk to the restroom. When he was gone Cuddy said, "Preliminary results suggest it's not HIV."

House nodded, "The results suggest it's not…because it's not."

"Did Callahan tell you what the patient has?"

"No."

"You figured it out?"

"I think so. I just need to prove it. Trust me," he said, eyes skating over her. "Files in from his family doctor?"

"Not yet, I expect them within an hour or two."

"Frank wants to see the kids."

Cuddy nodded, "I'm not fond of him, but this is your call, House. As long as he's not alone with them. As far as I'm concerned, he's a stranger, I don't trust strangers alone with our kids."

House nodded, "Agreed. I don't want him up at our place either. Let's just…get something to eat here. We can wait for the results, have Jack and Ava come down here for dinner, he can see them."

"You know Ava's gonna say whatever's on her mind, right?"

House nodded, "Daddy's little girl. He wants to see what our family's like. So, we'll let him see what we're like."

"You sure you want to do this?"

"Yea, I'm sure."

Cuddy smiled, "I'll run up to Mel's and pick them up."


	5. Resemblance

_A/N-thank you to everyone who started to read this story, I hope you all continue to enjoy it. Thanks so much to the people who took the time to review since the last time: KiwiClare, MsStevieCooper, justlobe, Alltheloveintheworld, Suzieqlondon, JLCH, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, OldSFfan, Zaydasky, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, Bakerstreet Blues, IwuvHouse, Josam, CaptainK8, Devonfc, LoveMyHouse, ClareBear14, (Boo's House for the attempt!) and anonymous Guest reviewers. Thanks also to everyone who favorited/followed the story.  
_

_This one begins with a flashback.  
_

* * *

_**-6 months before Frank Callahan's arrival-**_

_The two week long visits from Arlene were always tense, but on one particular visit, she seemed to be even more involved than usual. Arlene legitimately loved her daughter, and she had definitely, although begrudgingly, grown to love House. The fact that he was good for her daughter helped. The fact that he was a wonderful, attentive and protective father to her grandchildren sealed her affection, although she would never admit it. She tried to be helpful when visiting, but more often than not, her almost constant "suggestions" made both Cuddy and House crazy._

_Four days of forced abstinence, due more to exhaustion and Arlene than the children, was starting to cause some real irritation for the pair. That Tuesday evening, Cuddy had to go down to the Center to take a call. She was still talking to a doctor from Atlanta, who had been droning on long after the necessary information had been exchanged, when House walked through her office door, quietly closed it, and pressed the lock. She smiled instantly when she saw him flash a sexy grin. _

_He walked over to her desk and she wrote on the yellow tablet in front of her, "Kids?"_

_He wrapped his hand around hers, the one holding the pen, and he moved her hand under his to spell, "Arlene's got 'em."_

_She smiled up at him from her chair, splitting her attention between the doctor on the phone and House. His closeness was always an instant turn on, his hand over hers, the way she could smell him, feel the heat of his body so close to hers, then she felt his rough chin against her shoulder just at her neck, and responded with the slightest moan at the end of her sentence, "We're willing to give it a shot," she said into the phone. _

_House whispered into her available ear, "Are you…willing?"_

_His hands were against her body, moving along her hips, stomach and then breasts, and it felt like he was surrounding her. If she wasn't aware of how much need had been building inside her, she was painfully aware of it after the briefest of moments alone with him. When his hands found the hem of her skirt and began shifting it upwards along her thighs, she felt her core pulse and flush with the warmth of desire. _

_She smirked up at him devilishly. "Look, Dr. Gallie, I really have to wrap this up, but thank you for your time, and I'll send you a proposal some time tomorrow."_

_When she was finally done on the phone, House was pulling her up out of her chair and onto her desk. She thought, momentarily, that she should complain when he ripped her panties off of her body, but her need was greater than the irritation, and she was busily helping him with the mutual removal of clothing. His tee shirt was still hanging on one of his arms, she realized she could have left it on him, but she so desperately wanted to feel his skin, every bit of him that she could find. When his fingers slid up both of her thighs to her center, he groaned. "Eager?" he teased, both proud of himself for his control of her arousal and incredibly turned on by her response._

_She smiled, then nipped at his bottom lip before she rasped, "I can't help it, you feel…soo good, and it feels like it's been soo long."  
_

_He groaned a chuckle, while her hands worked into his jeans. "Eager?" she taunted back._

"_God, yes," he said, not even attempting a witty retort or denial of his desire. "I promise that as soon as we can, tonight I'm hoping, I will take my time with you. Do things right…taste you…touch all of you. But, I told your mom to give us an hour to finish up our work. I'm guessing that means we have about thirty minutes, so__…_times a'wastin'."

_Cuddy smiled and bit her lip at his suggestion, enticed by the idea of getting to finally have him, even if only for a moment. As much as they both enjoyed their less hurried encounters, there was something about their stolen moments, their secret affair with each other, that added excitement to their lives. _

"_She seems needier than normal, do you think she misses us?" Cuddy asked, suddenly thinking again.  
_

"_Shhh. Thirty minutes, can we try to enjoy it?" he said, kissing her. "Missed you," he mumbled after popping a few buttons open on her blouse and turning his attention to her breasts. _

"_Me too," she sighed, rocking her hips forward toward him and smiling at the guttural groan that emerged from him. _

_He stood fully upright, pulling her forward, listening to her almost giggle; she was practically giddy with desire. He leaned in, kissing her hungrily. He could feel the heat of her so near him, and he pulled his face back so he could watch her expression, when they heard loud banging on her office door. _

"_Are you done with your call yet, Dear?" they heard Arlene shout. "I thought we could all walk down to the beach together."_

"_Go on down, we'll catch up," Cuddy shouted, hopefully._

"_We'll just wait right here, then we can all go together, I have to stop in the restroom here anyway, so I want to leave the kids with you."_

_House bowed his head, "Your mom should advertise her services as a hard on exterminator."_

_Cuddy actually chuckled, sort of pathetically, "I'm sorry."_

_He shrugged, kissed her softly, and they started to repair their clothing. He held up her destroyed panties, "Oops."_

_She shrugged again. "You and me, tonight, when they're asleep. We tell mom we have mutual headaches. I can't wait any longer than that, and I don't care if I sleep tonight."  
_

_He smiled, and was about to say something when they heard Arlene again, "Could you please hurry, I need to use the restroom."_

_Once their clothing was repaired, House flopped into Cuddy's chair, and dropped his head in his hand while she unlocked the door and let everyone into the office. _

"_I don't see why you needed to lock the door," Arlene chastised._

"_I__t was an important meeting, I couldn't be interrupted," Cuddy defended.  
_

"_Except by him," Arlene countered._

"_He was helping."  
_

"_Greg behaving helpfully is one of the signs that hell's finally freezing over, isn't it?"_

"_Oh, I was being helpful," he countered, a bit more angrily than he intended. "I thought you had to pee."_

_Arlene smiled tensely and said to House, "You wish I'd go home, don't you?"_

"_No. __I'm glad you're here," he said, forcing a tight smile. _

"_Can we build a sand turtle at the beach?" Ava asked while Arlene left the room.  
_

"_Yea, sure. Sounds fun," House answered honestly._

_Jack ran in circles for a few minutes, excited for their outing. Ava smiled at House, and whispered, "You really do want to build a sand turtle."_

"_Of course I do. I said I did."_

"_But you _did _lie to Grandma. You _want_ her __to go home."_

"_What?" he said, maintaining innocence through his inflection.  
_

_"You don't lie to us, but you lie to other people."  
_

_"How do you know?"  
_

"_Dad…you have a tell."_

"_Right," he said, huffing skeptically._

"_You do," Ava retorted._

"_Alright. What is it?"_

"_If I told you, you wouldn't do it anymore. So, how would I know when you're lying to people?"_

* * *

Cuddy walked into Kate and Mel's to get the kids for dinner with Frank. The kids were hovering over cupcakes that they were decorating, fingers covered in frosting and food coloring. Mel smiled at Cuddy, "Sorry, Lisa, I had no idea you were coming this early."

It was easy to tell which cupcakes were decorated by each child, Ava's were virtually flawless, and each cupcake looked exactly like a cupcake. Mechanically executed cupcakery. Jack's were bright, colorful, and almost over decorated. An artful expression.

"It's fine, I'm early," Cuddy smiled at the children and at Mel. "Guys, you want to come back to work with me for dinner?"

"Can we have pizza?" Jack asked.

"You guys can, if you want," Cuddy agreed.

"OK. I'll come," Jack answered.

"Why are we going down there tonight when we usually stay here with Mel until you're done?" Ava asked, suspiciously.

"There isn't a hidden agenda behind everything, sweetie," Mel said to Ava, who smiled first at Mel and then looked at her mother.

Cuddy wrinkled her face at Mel and Ava, guiltily. "This time there is."

Ava smirked at Mel. Mel loved the kids, even the overly self-assured cockiness of Ava when she knew she was right.

"So…what's going on, Mom?" Ava asked.

Cuddy took a cautionary breath and said, "Frank…that guy from the other night?" Jack suddenly looked very uneasy, but nodded while Cuddy continued, "He would like to meet you both."

Ava tossed her head back, "Urgh, really? Why?"

"Because he wants to know who your dad is, so he wants to know who you are. Knowing you is part of knowing your dad."

"Do I have to go?" Ava asked.

Jack looked nervous, Cuddy knew, if Ava wasn't going, Jack wouldn't go either. Although Ava teased Jack for following her around, both of them usually preferred to be together. "No," Cuddy said, calmly, "You don't have to go at all. I'm not going to force you."

"Why should I want to go then?" Ava asked.

"I'm not fond of Frank, but I _am_ a little curious. Plus, I'm going to set aside whatever my personal feelings are, and I'm going to be there because your dad wants me to be there."

"He said he wants you to be?"

"No. But I know that he does anyway. I admit it, I want to see every piece of the gigantic puzzle that is your dad. This is one of the pieces that's always been missing, and this may be the only chance I ever have to see it."

Ava nodded.

"Go wash up," Cuddy said, "Take a few minutes to think about it. Let me know what you decide."

Ava grabbed Jack by the wrist and took him to the bathroom.

"They're having a meeting," Mel smirked.

"They do that a lot," Cuddy answered while she tried to help Mel clean up the mess that the children made.

"You really hate the guy, don't you?"

"I do not _hate_ him."

"Are you playing with words?"

Cuddy smiled, "Maybe."

"You always make sure your gang is OK. You're good at looking out for them."

"It's hard to know when protecting is protecting…and when protecting is…smothering…stifling. It's difficult enough to do with kids, it's even harder to do with an adult… If I try too hard, then I'm controlling, and if I don't try hard enough…I'm not looking out for him."

"That doesn't sound like House. You really think he feels that way?"

"I _know_ he doesn't feel that way. He doesn't have those expectations, I do. _I _feel that way. I don't want to smother him _and_ I don't want him to get hurt. I just don't know how to do both things simultaneously in this situation."

Mel smiled, "Trust yourself. They do."

"Mom?" Jack said from behind her. "We'll go."

"OK," Cuddy said, nodding, both hoping that they'd go, and wishing they wouldn't.

* * *

While Cuddy went to bring the kids down to the Center, Frank joined House in his office. Mike was far too sick to join them for dinner, so he continued to sleep in his room. Frank sat down at the chair in front of House's desk and said, "So, are you finally going to tell me, why do you and your wife call each other by your surnames?"

"We've used them for so long, anything else feels…forced."

"When did you meet her?"

House scrolled through his junk email while he tried to decide how much he was willing to let the old man know. "Med school."

"Med school!" Frank shouted loudly, laughing. "She said you just got married five years ago. Your children are young, so what does that mean? Is she some sort of crazy feminist who felt she was way too good to get married to some _man_ and have his children."

House's eyes were immediately scowling as he sarcastically responded, "Yes, I really _hate_ free thinking women. If only they were more easily programmable."

"Wait," the old man held his hand in the air, "It came out wrong, don't get all worked up. I'm not insulting your wife."

House looked back down at his computer and continued scrolling, the scroll wheel on his mouse tapping noisily.

"You two are always ready to gnaw into anyone who says the slightest thing about the other one," the old man sighed. "Let me try again. Why did you and Cuddy wait so long to get married?"

"You should call her Lisa."

"Last time I spoke to your mother, you were seeing some lawyer, so I'm guessing there was a break between med school and marriage."

"Wow. Seriously? That was the last time you spoke to my mom?" House asked over his computer screen, finally sitting back.

"Your mother called me when you had problems with your leg. Last I heard from her was during that whole ordeal."

"The lawyer left right after that."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not, I'd hate to be married to one woman and secretly wanting another…wouldn't that be terrible?"

Frank smirked and scowled just a bit, enjoying House's banter more than he was offended by it. "So, if I can ask the question again, without insulting your wife, why did it take you so long to get married? Was it…political?"

"No, it wasn't political. That story would take longer than the remainder of your natural life. That's not me calling you _ancient_, that's me, telling you, it's a long story. It would take longer than the rest of Jack's natural life too."

"Don't your kids think it's strange…the way you address one another?"

House shrugged, "You'd have to ask them. It's probably less nausea-inducing than hearing your parents call each other love muffin or pookie."

Frank smirked, "Never thought of that."

House nodded and his attention turned to the clamoring at the door that signaled that his kids had arrived. Jack burst in, heading straight for his father, a wide grin plastered on his face. When Jack was small, House said that he thought his son scooped up all of the exuberance that others lacked when forced to deal with the grouchy diagnostician. He also contended that Jack made it his tiny, personal responsibility to deliver all of that abandoned exuberance directly to his father in metered doses.

Jack started to walk slowly over to the older man, when Ava was immediately at his side. Frank leaned down, and said amicably, "Hi, I'm your gr…"

"This is Frank," House clarified, interrupting Frank before he could grant himself a title. "This is Ava and Jack."

House wasn't incorrect when he warned Frank that the children might not be warm in their welcome. In fact, their welcome was sort of eerie. Both kids stood about two feet away from Frank, and looked him. Studied him. Jack's brow was furrowed, the tension from the room making him wary. Ava looked at Frank critically, more affectless than her brother. She tilted her head, leaned forward slightly, and the very first words out of her mouth were, "Why did you abandon my father?"

"What?" the old man instantly reacted with shock.

"Mom said sometimes people hurt us by not being there. Why weren't you there?"

Cuddy's eyes were wide with surprise as she wondered if she should high-five her daughter, or remind her to be respectful. House rubbed his chin roughly with his hand, oddly uncertain of exactly how to react as well, except to let the child speak. Frank wanted to meet Ava, and _this _was Ava.

"I didn't, I wouldn't…that's not really how…" Frank temporarily forgot thoughts of answering Ava, and looked at House, "Do you tell your children everything?"

"Not _everything._ They actually put most of this stuff together on their own," House replied.

"I'm not stupid," Ava said calmly.

"Obviously not," Frank replied, a bit proudly, and also a bit taken off guard.

Ava looked at Jack, "He's avoiding my questions, for now."

The two children walked over to the corner and started to play with the toys that were stored there for them. Frank looked at the children and then back at House, and then even at Cuddy, seemingly in search of an ally that he wasn't going to find.

"What do you like on your pizza?" Cuddy asked, smiling awkwardly.

* * *

Once the food arrived, they were all eating in House's office. Things seemed to be going pretty well, although the kids sat at a small table that House had put there so they could 'work' in his office, and they didn't really interact with Frank at all after the first few minutes.

Cuddy seemed to be warming up to Frank a bit as he discussed his family. "My wife and I had two sons and a daughter. My oldest son, Mark, died. Vietnam. He was eighteen."

"I'm really sorry," Cuddy said sadly, thoughts of her own loss of a child touching her consciousness.

"He was a good boy. My second son, Andrew, lives in Chicago, he's a businessman. He's your patient's father. My daughter, Tricia, she's a Mathematics professor in Boston. She's just few months older than you. You…are the baby of the gang," Frank said to House.

Jack giggled, letting on that perhaps the children were paying more attention to the conversation than they had let on.

"What are you laughing at?" House playfully goaded his son.

"You weren't _really_ a baby!" Jack snickered.

"You think your Nana came home one day…found a full-grown man with a beard sleeping in a crib."

"You're too tall for a crib," Jack stated, still smiling.

Frank found his stack of pictures, the envelope becoming increasingly soft and wrinkled, "Do you want to see?" he asked Jack.

Jack came over eagerly while Ava looked on from about a foot behind her brother. Jack laughed about the pictures, loudly. "Is that really you, Dad?"

"Nah," House kidded. "That baby is _way_ too adorable to be me. I think that is the cutest baby picture I've ever seen. Wait, hang on…yup that's me. Like I said…cutest baby. Ever."

"It's him," Frank said, pulling another picture out from the stack, "And here's your Nana holding him."

The kids took the pictures and began looking through them.

"Could I take these two to meet my grandson?" Frank asked.

"We should probably wait and make sure whatever he has isn't contagious," House absently answered.

"I'm sure it would be fine."

"We don't know that," House said, then hesitated, "Unless…you know what's wrong with him."

Frank sighed, "No, I'm not sure what's wrong with him."

Ava suddenly seemed interested in Frank, walking up to him, standing right in front of him and looking him directly in the eye. "What's your favorite movie?" Ava asked.

"Depends on my mood," Frank answered, "I like westerns, I've always been a sucker for the classics…and Nemo. I have great-grandchildren who love Nemo."

Ava smiled very sweetly, shifting her weight slowly from one foot to the other. Her one hand clasped her opposite wrist in front of her in a very girlish and friendly pose. House and Cuddy exchanged suspicious glances.

"What about color, do you have a favorite color?" Ava asked.

"I'm color blind. Red-Green. I guess I can see yellow the best, so that's probably my favorite."

"Where were you born?"

"Winchester. My family lived there until I was seven."

"What's your wife's name?"

"Naomi."

"Are you still married?"

"She died."

"Oh, sorry," Ava said, pausing for a second. "What's your favorite thing to eat?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs with a nice loaf of garlic bread."

"That sounds pretty tasty," Ava said, giving him a minute.

Ava was always inquisitive, but these 'small talk' style questions seemed nothing like her, particularly the rapid pace with which they were being fired.

"Do you have brothers and sisters?" Ava continued.

"Yes, one brother and two sisters."

"Do you like any sports?"

"I love baseball," Frank answered, feeling inundated with questions, but a bit excited that the girl suddenly seemed to want to know so much about him.

"What were your parent's names?"

"Henry and Mildred, but my mother went by Millie. Wouldn't even respond to her full given name."

"Sucks that your grandson's sick."

"Yes it does. I'm hoping your dad can make him better."

"So, you don't know what's wrong with your grandson?"

"No," Frank said, sadly, "I wish I did."

"That must be frustrating."

"Very."

"You prefer dogs or cats?"

"Neither," Frank said, "Not much of an animal person."

Ava looked at her brother, and he looked back at her, the two speaking wordlessly in a way that some would have probably found a little creepy. Jack nodded at Ava and she looked back at Frank. The child said, her voice suddenly colder, "Of course. I'm sure you hate to be tied down by stuff you have to take care of."

Frank blinked a couple of times. "Ava," Cuddy warned, not admonishing, but cautionary. Ava's anger suddenly seemed very evident, as she exhibited the same protective nature that often shone through for all of the members of her immediate family. "I wouldn't give up my Dad. Not for anything."

Ava walked over and stood off to House's side, waiting for him to turn his gaze to her. When House's eyes finally left Frank, and he looked at his daughter, he waited for whatever she needed to say. "He's lying," the girl said, very calmly.

House's expression questioned Ava's allegation. "He has a tell," Ava said nonchalantly.

"Itsa same as yours," Jack added, nodding next to her.


	6. Things Corporeal

_A/N-Hello all, thank you for reading and to all of those who reviewed since the last time: limptulip, huddyholic, MsStevieCooper, LapizSilkwood, LoveMyHouse, paroulis, KiwiClare, jaybe61, CaptainK8, aussiefan12, Josam, JLCH, OldSFfan, Victoria, IHeartHouseCuddy, redsox15, Truth, 6cbrilhante, Bakerstreet Blues, Alltheloveintheworld, TheHouseWitch, SupaDupaAlex, IWuvHouse, justlobe, bytesize, jkarr, Alex, Abby, Suzieqlondon, HuddyGirl, BJAllen815, Boo's House, Jane Q. Doe, ClareBear14, ammeboss, and the Anonymous reviewer._

_Here's the next piece. For those of you looking for some luvin' in these chapters…we'll have a smutty section for Friday…of course for all of those who hate the smutty sections, take heart…it won't be the entire chapter. Hopefully something for everyone on Friday. Hee hee._

_Again...medical moron here :)  
_

* * *

"I'm not a liar," Frank said, laughing off the children's accusation.

House kept his focus on his children, waiting patiently.

"He knows what's wrong with his grandson," Ava said calmly.

Jack nodded. "Yea, he knows."

"This is adult conversation, you kids go play and let us handle the grownup stuff," Frank replied.

Ava and Jack weren't about to be dismissed by Frank, they stood calmly in front of their father. Jack walked a few steps to where Cuddy was sitting, and he stood next to her, leaning back against her knee, almost as if he was checking in to see what his mother thought. Cuddy rested her fingers on Jack's shoulder reassuringly, and his tenseness seemed to ease a bit.

House was deep in thought, his gaze drifting between his children and wife.

"You know children have wild imaginations, they can't be trusted," Frank said with a nervous chuckle.

House looked up at him, "I'd trust them over pretty much anyone else." His voice was soft, steady and certain as he pointed to his wife and children.

"You can't be serious." Frank said as he looked at Cuddy, who pressed her lips closed and nodded in agreed certainty. Frank looked at the kids, "Your games aren't funny. Go play somewhere else, let us talk."

House's gaze grew cold, and he lifted one finger to silence any orders. His voice grew firmer when he said, "Don't call them liars."

Ava looked at her father, "Why hide if he knows what's wrong? Isn't it easier just to tell you the truth if he knows, so you can make his grandson better?"

"It is…a lot easier. At first I thought he was embarrassed about whatever was wrong with the patient. That's what your mom thought too. I started to really think about it. Why would he need me? If he wanted to hide a disease, or its treatment, there are lots of other places around the world to get anonymous treatment when you have some money."

"So, it's not something embarrassing," Cuddy interjected. "Perhaps something experimental? Something most doctors wouldn't be willing to try but maybe you would?"

"That was my next thought," House answered. "But earlier, he said that our patient's father is Andrew Callahan, a businessman from Chicago. More like mogul, so really he could afford any treatment option he wanted, if he was willing to go to the right place overseas."

"Then he wasn't hoping to get special treatment at our clinic because he's a relative," Cuddy said thoughtfully, "And he doesn't need your diagnostic skills, he needed _you_."

House nodded, "He needed a close relative…with genetic makeup similar to his grandson."

"Genetic makeup?" Ava asked.

House turned to Frank, "I'm guessing you're looking for replacement body parts, am I right?"

Frank looked down, silently. House smirked at Cuddy. He was calm, full of acceptance and the satisfaction of deciphering the puzzle. Cuddy was not calm. Her arms were folded, but House could see below her elbows, the tight balling of her fists. He could see her jaw move beneath her skin, clenching, angrily, but perhaps most frightening, was the rage behind her eyes. Jack moved in front House, "You can't use him. We need him."

Jack jumped a little when House tapped his son's arm, "He doesn't want all of me, just some parts that I have extras of."

Jack seemed to ease a little, but he was still regarding the situation suspiciously. "I'm guessing…a few stem cells…bone marrow or PBSC?" House asked, finally looking at Frank again. "The patient has amyloidosis or more likely…leukemia."

Frank searched for words, the deep flush that rose from his neck and ears across the front of his face provided ample proof that House was correct.

"Wait," Ava said, looking suspiciously at Frank, "He wants to use your bones?"

"I'm guessing he wants to use the stuff inside my bones…marrow, or try to get enough stem cells from my blood, and give them to his grandson to try to help him feel better. It's really hard to find a perfect match, so he came to find me."

Cuddy summoned every last ounce of self-control within her. With prodigious effort she flattened her palms on the arms of the chair and pressed upward until she was standing. "Jack, Ava…let's go see if Aunt Kate's in her office."

Ava turned to argue, but she knew the look in her mother's eye. It wasn't admonishing or punitive, but it was certain. There wasn't discussion when Cuddy reached that point. Ava occasionally tested and pushed boundaries with Cuddy, but not when Cuddy had that look. Ava sighed with frustration, and held out her hand for Jack.

In that moment, Cuddy despised Frank. Her whole family was shaken by this visitor. She could see the tension and concern in her son, she knew it was likely that Ava would melt down soon under the anger she had for the old man, but what seemed to make Cuddy angriest of all was House's calm, relaxed acceptance of the situation. House was completely unconcerned that Frank showed up simply to use his own son in that way. Frank sat uncomfortably, waiting to hear the reaction of his nearly forgotten son.

Cuddy walked to the door, directing her children, and watching while they disappeared into Kate's office. Closing the door to House's office, Cuddy tapped her fingertips on the door frame several times, as she tried to gather her composure. House slipped back behind his desk to find the files on his computer that had been compiled so far for Mike Callahan by the doctors and residents working on the case.

Frank stood behind House's desk, looking out the large window. Frank sighed, "You're right. He has leukemia, they said it's acute, AML. So far it's been very aggressive. His doctors at home give him less than two months. They tried treatment, drugs, chemo, but said he needs the transplant. He wasn't a candidate to use his own stem cells. None of us are a close enough match."

After several minutes of silence, Cuddy finally turned, and walked decisively and angrily toward Frank. "You selfish, old son of a bitch," she practically spat, the whites of her eyes red and irritated. "Why didn't you just tell us what you were here for in the first place, instead of making us jump through hoops just to find out what you wanted?"

"I thought that if you got to know me first…" Frank said, still gazing out the window.

"It would be like one big happy family?" Cuddy asked. "You hid it because you knew how wrong it was to ask. And hoped to ingratiate yourself to us…worm your way into our hearts so you could get what you wanted."

Frank turned back from the window, facing her. She continued, "Let's take a moment to recap exactly what I've pieced together so far. You cheated on your wife with an old girlfriend…no…wait…let me clarify, you cheated on your _pregnant_ wife, the mother of the two children you already had, with your old girlfriend. You denied the child that resulted from that affair. I'm not suggesting that you should have abandoned your wife and other children…but you shouldn't have turned your back on _any_ of your children. If you didn't want to hurt your other kids, why not contact my husband after they were grown? Why not call him after they graduated high school, or when he was in the hospital and could have _died_…you know, when his mother contacted you to let you know that you may outlive your own child. Let's say, that _still_ you didn't want to hurt your wife…fine, I can understand that…then why not contact him in the ten _years_ since your beloved wife died? Ten years. You didn't even _try_. Did you?"

Frank shook his head no, his body hanging with what appeared to be shame or regret.

"You didn't contact him when you saw the article about our Diagnostic Center. You didn't contact him when any search could have told you where he was." Cuddy's voice was loud, high, and steeped in frustration. "No, _Frank_, you showed up when it finally mattered to you. When _you_ wanted something for yourself. Do you know the life he lived in your absence? Did you ever wonder if he was cold or lonely, or tired or hurt as a child? I couldn't sleep if I didn't know for certain that my children ate, and were hugged and loved…were warm and safe. House couldn't either."

"Lisa," Frank said calmly, "I wish I could change the way things happened…"

"Saying you wish you didn't do the things you did…expressing regret, changes nothing. It's a few seconds of your time now and it's supposed to somehow make up for what you missed…no…not missed…_neglected_…for over half a fucking century."

"OK, without mentioning my regrets, allow me to explain."

"I was willing to accept an explanation ten minutes ago. I was willing to allow you to attempt to justify your shitty behavior and provide you the opportunity to tell your side. But now, I've seen who you are. It's not enough that House was forced to sacrifice the life he could have had. Those were your decisions, yours and Blythe's. Fathers…are no less responsible for their offspring than mothers. You know who taught me that…who showed me that? Your estranged son. The man without a decent fucking paternal role model. He showed me what a father should be during my pregnancy, late nights with sick kids, evenings at home."

Cuddy breathed deeply, stepping a few steps back. "The thing is, I was still willing to try to look beyond all of that…beyond _all_ of those things…until I realized that you're just here to harvest biological resources. He received none of the advantages of being your biological relative, but is supposed to sacrifice when you need to _use_ the fact that he's related to you to _your _advantage. That's beyond fucked up."

Cuddy started to walk away and turned back, "I thought it was bad enough when you wanted to use his talents…his mind…but you wanted more. You lied to him, and then you tried to literally suck the blood from his veins or the centers from his bones when it suited you like some sort of enormous parasite. He isn't some biological farm for you and your _preferred_ offspring. His body isn't a vessel housing bits and pieces and parts for you to use when you need them."

She placed her hand against her forehead, angry, hurt, frustrated, and then she felt House's hand on her elbow. "Doesn't matter anyway," he said calmly, "Half-siblings are seldom matches, but…we don't even have the same blood type. I can't donate even if I wanted to, and besides, I'm not sure anyone wants anything harvested from me anyway."

Cuddy looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness, "That isn't the point," she whispered softly.

"I know," he answered lowly. Her sadness drifting over him.

* * *

_**-Clinic's opening week-**_

_Cuddy seldom worked in the clinic during their later years, usually restricting her activities to the Diagnostics wing, but when they first opened the local clinic attached to the Diagnostics Center, they didn't have enough doctors and students to staff the clinic properly. She didn't actually mind filling in when the clinic was short staffed. They never anticipated how many people would show up when they started seeing patients. The Friday after the clinic opened, Cuddy filled in, trying to help the only young doctor who was on duty that day get through a waiting room full of patients. _

_House avoided the clinic for the morning, wondering if Cuddy was going to try to convince him to see patients, even though she promised that he would be permanently exempt from clinic duty. In the afternoon, he crept over, suspicious that he hadn't heard anything. The clinic still had a pretty large number of patients in it, but certainly wasn't overflowing the way it had been earlier in the day. When Cuddy emerged from an exam room, he sidled up next to her. "Seriously…that's the new doctor?" House asked, snickering immaturely._

"_That's him," Cuddy said, busily._

"_Does he want to be lord of the nerds or a model?"_

_She briefly smiled, too preoccupied to make fun of the new doctor adequately. "Probably both, he wants to be dorky handsome, it's all the rage," she said dryly. She stopped working for a moment, looked up at House, and he was ready, instantly prepared for her to order or beg him to see some patients. But she didn't. "He's actually a really good doctor. A little slow, but…I'm really impressed."_

_House looked completely confused by the fact that there was a clinic full of patients, and Cuddy wasn't ordering him to help, and she wasn't angry that he didn't volunteer. House smiled, realizing that he was living the dream he'd had so many times as a doctor at PPTH. She patted his arm for a moment and said, "I'll try to catch you for lunch in an hour."_

_House shook his head as she walked away, shocked that Cuddy was keeping to her agreement. Cuddy bustled around the room as she gathered files, and went to the next patient waiting in an exam room. Just out of the corner of his eye, House caught three men, young, in their twenties, probably tourists, watching Cuddy. Watching wasn't the appropriate word, they were sort of leering, but there was something distinctly predatory about the way they were leering. _

_House paused for a few moments and considered saying or doing something. He had this feeling like something wasn't right. The more he thought about getting involved, the more he corrected himself. He wrote off his instincts as petty jealousy, as unnecessary insecurity, and decided he was going to walk away. He tried to convince himself that walking away was a sign of confidence, as well as actual proof that he wasn't jealous._

_An hour later House returned, hoping for lunch with Cuddy, and he saw her still fluttering about, but the number of people waiting was decreasing nicely. She stopped in front of House, briefly, apologetically, and said, "Tonight's date night…I want to get wrapped up, so I'm going to work through lunch. That OK?"_

_House nodded, approvingly, hoping that she could also keep their promise of date night. He saw the three guys, still in the corner, joking and leering and acting more like they were in a bar or a locker room than a waiting room. "What's up with the idiot trio?" House asked._

_Cuddy looked up at him, "I'm thinking they're a 'drittle lunk'…" she joked._

_He smirked, "A little? They're way drunk."_

"_Yea, so, I put them at the bottom of the pile. I'll give them an hour yet to sober up and see 'em then. At least in my waiting room, they aren't getting drunker."_

_House smiled at her and whispered, "They're definitely enjoying the view, so I don't think they mind waiting."_

"_They've been staring at scantily clad coeds in bikinis for all of spring break, I'm sure they aren't interested in women their mother's age. Just because you think I'm attractive doesn't mean every guy does."_

"_Dead ones…they don't seem that into you, so that is partially true."_

"_Go," she smirked as she leaned her arm into him, teasing, "Let me get done and tonight we can talk about how hot I am."_

_He smiled at her and made his way back toward the Diagnostics wing to hide in his office. He sat back in his chair, reveling in the fact that he was relaxing in his chair, his feet up on his desk, and Cuddy wasn't nagging him to turn his attention to a clinic full of patients. He closed his eyes and found he couldn't even enjoy his situation. He couldn't get over a pervasive feeling, an instinct, that those guys waiting in the clinic were leering in all of the wrong ways. Their looks weren't admiring. His mind flashed to thoughts of them using her, brutalizing her and he just couldn't seem to shake the visions from his mental image. He reached into his desk, grabbed what he needed from his drawer, and went to the clinic, realizing that he'd much rather be called a jealous idiot than relax in his chair while his wife was abused and raped. _

_There was an office assistant at the desk, and the new doctor was chatting with her, idly finishing up paperwork. "Where's Cuddy?" he asked the assistant._

"_Last patient, she'll be done soon," the assistant answered.  
_

_The waiting room was completely empty. "The drunken idiots from the corner? They leave?"_

"_Nope," the new doctor answered, "She's in with them now."_

"_All of them?" House asked, confused and somewhat horrified. "You guys, sent her in there alone with three drunks?"_

"_They were here a long time, I don't think they were very intoxicated anymore," the new doctor answered. "She'll probably hand them some acetaminophen and send them back to their hotel to sleep."  
_

_House started to walk over to the exam room, grumbling the entire time, when he heard a dull thud in the room, like someone banging into the wall, and his gut clenched as he palmed the gun he had taken from his desk. _

"_Is that a gun?" the assistant practically screamed._

_House tried to turn the door handle, surprised to find that it wasn't locked. When he peered inside, he realized that it wasn't Cuddy who had slammed into the wall, it was one of the three drunks, who looked like he slid down the wall, before landing on the floor clutching his testicles. The two other men were towering over Cuddy, backing her toward the corner. "Wait for me, I wanna play too!" House said loudly from the door, his gun at his side, just visible enough that he knew they could see it without actually pointing it at them. _

_The guys stepped back, just a bit, casually trying to look as if their proximity to her was reasonable, probably even medical. House could see Cuddy's hand was on a drawer, probably reaching for a syringe or something that would make a suitable weapon. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, doctor, but I need a consult," House announced.  
_

_Cuddy slipped between the two guys that were still standing over her, and he could hear her gulp when she cleared the room. The next hour was filled with local police and interrogations. No arrests were made. Cuddy was completely unharmed and the men claimed it was just a misunderstanding. The only person who was harmed was the man whose balls were properly introduced Cuddy's knee. House wished Cuddy could have had the opportunity to make more 'introductions.' Before they left, the doctor and assistant asked why House had a gun at a doctor's office. He cast his eyes down in memory, "Personal experience…es."_

_Right before they walked out the door, he turned to the doctor and the assistant and made the only rule he ever made for the clinic, "Patients don't outnumber doctors unless we're talking about kids and parents. Someone should have been in there with her. Common sense. That scenario…what just happened, will not happen again. Why your lazy ass was sitting out here doing _paperwork_ while she was in with them is beyond me."_

_When they got home, Cuddy was all family business: dinners, handing the children off to Kate for date night. She was cool, collected, ready for the end of the day. House's insides wouldn't stop shaking. His hands weren't much better. When Kate had the kids in her care, the couple walked out the front door, embarking on their evening alone. They walked, sauntered, in a deep and uncomfortable silence. It wasn't too often that their silences were uncomfortable anymore, but everything between them was thick and guarded. "I guess I owe you an apology," she began._

_He looked at her, his eyes surprised, "How's that?"_

"_You warned me."_

"_I wasn't thinking that," he said with frustration, trying to tone down the rising anger in his voice._

"_You did, you warned me."_

"_The only thing that should get me is p__roof that my jealousy is actually a good thing, and I should be able to embrace it whenever I need to," he tried to joke._

"_Granted," she tried to joke back. "Thank you for coming to get me."  
_

_At the end of the block, House pulled her away from the street, suddenly, and swooped her body into a full hug. She could feel him almost shaking. "House," she said, taking his face in her hands, "I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine. Absolutely nothing happened."_

"_That's not the point," he said sadly._

"_I know."_

* * *

House drifted back to reality when he heard the sound of Frank's voice. "I love my grandson. I was willing to do whatever I had to do to save him. From everything I've seen, donating isn't a terrible thing…it wouldn't shorten anyone's life, it's not a huge sacrifice. It may have prompted me to contact you, but I am glad…I'm excited that I finally had a reason to overcome my own embarrassment and my own concerns and make the leap…make the attempt to contact you."

House nodded vaguely in his direction, still focused on Cuddy. Frank walked through the office, and the old man stopped, facing the wall. Cuddy was still angry, Frank's attempt at justification did nothing for her. House was perfectly calm and at ease, until Frank pointed at a picture on the wall and said, "What about them?"

House limped over to Frank, to verify what he already knew Frank was pointing at on the wall. When House reached the old man's side, and saw him looking at a smiling picture of Ava and Jack on the porch of their home before the first day of school, House almost lost it. His forehead was beading sweat, and he said, as calmly as he could, "Stay the fuck away from my children."

Frank looked shocked. Cuddy knew in that moment that Frank was convinced that her anger was hers alone, and completely irrational. He thought that House was his ally in this quest to find stem cells from long forgotten family, and in a way he was, but not at any cost. Frank said, "Relatives are more likely matches."

"One is the child of a half-sibling and the other is adopted. I don't think the chance of a match is much greater than finding a stranger match. You're best off going through the right channels and having them search the donor database," Cuddy sighed.

"I knew he was adopted," Frank said with a chuckle, "Let's test them anyway. She's a match, I can feel it."

"_He _isn't adopted, you moron," House said with great irritation.

"Wait…she isn't yours?"

"She's mine," House said, looking briefly at Cuddy and correcting, "She's…ours. _And_ she's adopted. She's also too young and Jack's way too young."

"She looks so…much like one of us."

"You're right…let's just tie down the eight year-old and use her as a match because she looks the part. I'm not going to let you go scavenging through my family for appropriate DNA. Me fine, my five and eight year-old children…no."

Frank had been relatively mild mannered and calm throughout the entire discussion, really throughout his entire visit, but suddenly, he broke, "What am I going to do?" he asked sadly, in the first overt display of emotion, "I can't just watch him die."

Both Cuddy and House momentarily pondered expelling the old man from the office, eventually from the island, but they didn't. House could see his own reflection in the man's earnestness, and knew he'd do anything to save his children or Cuddy.

Frank pleaded, sadly, "Don't make him pay because you don't like me. He's a good man. There were no matches in our family. He's willing to try experimental treatments, partial matches, anything."

House and Cuddy briefly met eyes and conferred, turning back to the old man and nodding. "We'll do what we can," Cuddy said, knowing that House had made a decision that he felt with certainty.

Frank smiled and offered his appreciation, "I will repay you for this. I always repay my debts."

"Since we know what's going on, stop playing games, call his fucking doctor and have his files sent to us. It'll save us a lot of time," House answered.

Frank stepped out of the room to visit his grandson. House leaned on the desk next to Cuddy. "Really, I need to know…what's my tell?"

She looked up at him and shook her head, "House…I honestly have no clue."


	7. Perceptual Healing

_A/N-Thanks to everyone who has favorited or followed this story, it's such an honor as a writer to have people enjoy your work! Thanks to all of the reviewers since the last chapter: JLCH, 6cbrilhante, IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, Truth, Bakerstreet Blues, TheHouseWitch, OldSFfan, LapizSilkwood, housebound, ClareBear14, Alex, dmarchl21, Abby, Suzieqlondon, HuddyGirl, MsStevieCooper, huddyholic, LoveMyHouse, Josam, IWuvHouse, Alltheloveintheworld, LiaHuddy and Jane Q. Doe.  
_

_Pretty long chapter. This one's heavy on flashback, but I'll be back on Monday to move the story along. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!  
_

_*The end of this chapter includes adult content._

* * *

After Frank left, House went to find the kids in Kate's office. Jack was sitting on the edge of Kate's desk, looking as if he was on the verge of tears. Ava was ranting angrily in the corner next to the desk, almost screaming at Kate, who was situated between two kids in the midst of a full on meltdown. House sat down next to Kate's desk and waited. When Ava was mid-rant, he usually let her finish, as long as she was in a safe place and no one was going to get hurt. He and Cuddy agreed years earlier that when the girl needed to vent her frustration, it was best to let her do that, rather than try to force her to contain her feelings. These weren't tantrums thrown to get her way, they were expressions of emotions too heavy to keep inside. Such outbursts became increasingly rare. As she grew, they were able to give her outlets for her more overwhelming feelings: exercise, music, sometimes even just talking calmly, but the arrival of Frank and Mike Callahan was disconcerting for the entire family.

Kate sat, patiently listening, one arm comfortingly around Jack, her eyes on Ava. The girl looked at House, and he could see the anger as plainly as he could see her standing in front of him. "Dad," she barked, moving to the front of him. He looked at her, calmly, and waited for her to speak, "You cannot let this guy do this. What if something goes wrong? What if something gets infected? I've read the consent forms."

House shook his head and said, "Don't read those. They're just a bunch of crap we have to get people to sign so we won't get sued."

"What if they take too much blood and you run out?" Jack asked, his bottom lip quivering.

"That would be bad, but they don't do that. They know how much to take, but it doesn't matter. Donors and recipients, in this case, me and the patient, have to have the same kind of blood. In the case of marrow or stem cells, it has to be very, very, very close to exactly the same. Mine isn't like his at all. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't."

Ava looked relieved and then said, "I still hate Frank."

House shrugged, "OK. I don't hate him."

"He's a jerk. And he's selfish," Ava said angrily.

"He should have been upfront about his motivations."

"Is Mom alone with him?" Ava asked, her eyes flashing with momentary excitement.

House smirked, "Your mom's doing some research. She had an idea. Frank's with his grandson."

"Did mom _discuss_ things with him?" Ava asked, still trying to hide a grin. She said 'discuss' in the same way Cuddy said it when she was frustrated and told a member of her family that something would have to be talked about later.

He smiled at his child's enthusiasm for the thought, and how well she knew Cuddy. "I think your mom shared her feelings on the situation with him."

Ava looked relieved, but Jack still looked nervous. House gestured for the boy, and Jack approached nervously. "I'm not going anywhere," House said evenly. "There is nothing to worry about. No one's taking too much blood, even if I did donate, they only take a little. It's not exsanguination."

"What's that?" Jack asked.

"When they suck every last drop of blood out of your body until you're dead," Ava answered knowingly.

House approved until Ava asked, "Wait, so do they want to see if Jack's a match? Are they going to come after him?"

Jack's eyes grew instantly huge. "Wait, wait, wait," House said, trying to regain control of the situation and wishing that Cuddy, often the voice of reason, was with him and not researching elsewhere. "Jack's fine. No one's coming after Jack."

"Are you sure?" Ava asked.

"Yes!" House answered unwaveringly. "You think there are random bands of plasma and body part collectors roaming freely? What in the hell have you been reading? Besides the consent form?"

Ava shrugged. "Have you heard about the albinos being targeted for…"

"Stop," House said, trying to stop her before Jack never slept again. "There's plenty of other shit to read. Useful stuff, interesting stuff…stuff that will not prompt Jack to beg to sleep in our room every night for a month."

"You said shit," Ava accused playfully.

"Well, now you said it too," House retorted.

Jack seemed really nervous. "What's an albino?"

"Everybody shut up," Kate said calmly. "This is so far out of hand. This isn't some creepy horror movie thing, it's a donation that saves people who are going to die. The donor doesn't die. If I matched, I would do it. I'm on the registry. I donate blood all of the time, it's not that much different. They take little bits of blood or marrow, the donor goes home, sometimes they feel a little sick or achy for a few days. That's it. No one's going to kill your dad, or Jack, or anyone. OK?"

"Why'd Frank hide it if it isn't scary?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"Because Frank's a selfish coward," Kate said. "Trust me, I'm sure your mom did a great job of informing him of that. But he's not some sort of vampire. He's just a guy_…_and like I already said_…_a selfish coward…and a deadbeat."

Ava and Jack seemed appeased, and amused at Kate's use of words.

"I don't know how in the world you consistently get into conversations with your children that involve things like exsanguination," Kate complained.

House said, petulantly, "They started it," and listened while Jack finally started to giggle again.

House took Jack and Ava over to his office, where they found Cuddy, chatting on House's phone.

"Your impersonation of me needs work," he told Cuddy when she hung up.

She pushed the chair back, folded her hands low on her belly and crossed her ankles on top of his desk before tipping her head back and feigning sleep. The kids were both laughing and looking back and forth between their parents. They were quick to be impacted by negativity around them, but both were always remarkably resilient once they felt their concerns were addressed and they were safe again.

Cuddy sat up and said to House, "There's an interesting trial going on, they're looking for participants. I think we have to convince them that he's a little healthier than he is, but…we can probably do that. I also have a team of students working on the donor search."

"You aren't suggesting that we fabricate results?" House said, with mock horror.

Cuddy smirked, "I would never do that, but if they happen to misunderstand our results, that's not my fault."

The kids were preoccupied with toys for a few moments, when House said, "They were pretty freaked. I think they're picturing this patient like some sort of evil, blood-sucking monster."

"He's really nice," Cuddy said, "We could introduce them. I mean, with opportunistic infection, they're more of a risk to him than he is to them, so we should get his permission first."

"OK," House conceded.

"Hey," Cuddy began, "Your mother…are we going to warn her…or Frank?"

House looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't get a lot of free info from them, why should they get it from me?"

Cuddy nodded, "I'm so very good with that."

She left, spoke to Mike, and got his permission to introduce him to his small cousins. Mike, a proud and doting uncle when at home, was happy to have some life breathed into his sterile-feeling room. House brought Ava and Jack up to the room, and when they arrived, they found Frank standing by the door, watching his grandson. Mike had a guitar that he brought from home to help him pass time in the hospital. Jack and Ava suddenly seemed very relaxed when they realized that the patient was just a man who was sick. Mike seemed to really smile freely for the first time since he arrived.

Mike was easygoing, friendly, and his personality somehow managed to show through the gaunt pallor of his illness. Regardless of the family's feelings on Frank, Mike was almost instantly liked, particularly by the kids. House and Cuddy both lacked trust for the patient though, after all, Mike hid his diagnosis every bit as much as Frank did.

After the kids were done visiting for an hour, House took Frank aside. "Want to run a DNA test."

"On Mike?" Frank asked.

"No," House said, irritated by the stupidity of the question, "On you. Want to make sure you're the _real_ sperm donor."

Frank looked surprised, "I am your father…whether you like me or not."

"You want help for your grandson 'at any cost,' I'm willing to give help, but I've been fooled before…this time, I want proof."

Frank nodded.

House went to his office so the kids could play while tests were run. He sat in the corner of the room, playing with admissions ID bracelets and pondering treatment options while Jack and Ava entertained themselves.

* * *

_**-Clinic's opening week-**_

_The evening of the attempted attack on Cuddy, the couple kept their date. House was brooding and concerned, Cuddy still appeared to be collected and relatively unaffected. She practically dragged him down to the bungalow they often shared by the waterfront for their date night. He distracted them with drinks at a small pub and a circuitous path down to the water. "What's going on?" Cuddy asked when they finally made it to the bungalow. _

_She was standing on the first step, he was still standing in the sand. "Nothing's going on."_

"_Not a single comment about this dress…all night."_

"_You think I'm suddenly into fashion?"_

"_I think you're into clothes that highlight the features of my body that you like. Whether or not you like the dress…you usually like how I look in things like this."_

"_Fine. __It's cute," he conceded disinterestedly.  
_

"_Cute?"_

"_Flattering."_

"_Flattering?"_

"_What do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Just tell me, and I'll say it."_

"_I have to feed you the compliments I want to hear suddenly?" she scoffed._

"_I'm tired. Let's just sit down here a few minutes and then head home, get some sleep."_

"_You must be kidding. Seriously, you must be kidding!"_

"_I'm not kidding. It was a long day."_

"_Don't do this," she sighed, frustrated._

"_Do what?" he asked with irritation._

"_Please," she said, the confrontation out of her voice, "Tell me why you're acting weird."_

"_I'm not acting weird. I'm not acting anything."_

"_You think I'm weak?" she asked, her eyes sad, but her face trying to appear proud._

"_That's completely insane."_

"_Is it?"_

"_Yes…it is. I don't think you're weak and I'm not mad."_

_Cuddy thought about a protest, but just sighed, "Fine."_

_House looked at the water for a moment and then said, bitterly, "I'm not mad."_

"_You're acting mad!"_

"_I'm not fucking mad!" he shouted, right in her face._

_Cuddy pulled her head back from him, blinking. "Clearly."_

"_I'm not mad, Cuddy…I'm horrified."_

"_I horrify you?"_

"_Stop. That is not what I meant and you know it," he warned. His voice became impassioned, as he explained, "It's fucking terrifying. You want what happened to not matter to me? You want it to not bother me? Is that what you're looking for from me?"_

_"No."  
_

_"Good__…_because I will do almost anything for you. Almost anything you ask_…_but I cannot do that for you. I will not pretend like it doesn't matter. I cannot pretend like it didn't fuck me up. I will never pretend like I don't care_…_not when it comes to you."  


_"Nothing. Happened."  
_

_"Something very, very bad _could have_ happened. Something very bad was minutes away from happening. Today…I almost didn't go check on you. I almost sat at my fucking desk, happy as hell because you weren't making me work. I almost ignored every fucking instinct in my body, and if I would have ignored it, we'd probably be somewhere very different tonight…having a very different conversation."_

"_But you didn't ignore your instincts."_

"_No," he sighed, "I didn't."_

"_And you showed up…like a fucking hero with guns drawn," she said, bragging and grabbing his forearm. "I hated that stupid fucking gun…until today."_

_After the attack, there was adrenaline, police, kids, preparations, there were tons of activities that required her attention and she never felt the fear, anger, or concern. Standing at the beach, she looked as cool and poised as she always did, whether presenting an idea before the hospital board or welcoming a new group of students to the Center. _

_House rasped, "You try so hard to protect the rest of us…I almost failed you when you needed me."_

"_That's bullshit," she mumbled. "Nothing happened, really. I'm fine. Nothing. Happened."_

_He nodded toward the door, directing them inside. She paced around the room._

"_I hated the way they looked at you," he said as he shut the door and leaned against the wall. "This isn't jealousy, I can handle guys looking. Hell, sometimes, I like it, because, at the end of the day, you are mine. Every single night I'm the one who's there next to you, and I'm there because you want me to be. But…watching them."_

"_They were fucking creeps__…_predators."

_House grimaced, "Did I ever…make you feel like that?"_

_Her eyes snapped to his face, "Like what?"_

"_I spent a lot of years…watching you…wanting you…"_

"_You never made me feel like that. Ever."_

_He nodded quickly, trying to dismiss the line of conversation._

"_How could you even consider yourself to be like them?" she asked incredulously._

"_I just needed to know," he responded distantly._

"_I…love the way you look at me. I always have. Sometimes I've wondered how much of my confidence is related to how I actually look, and how much is related to the way you make me _feel_ that I look," she chuckled softly. "Seriously, you…make me feel amazing…wanted…desired."_

"_Objectified!" he argued.  
_

"_Not objectified. Appreciated…admired," she answered. "The difference is__…_you'd never hurt me. They wouldn't care if they did. They're selfish. Hell, they probably wanted to hurt me…or some woman, I don't think it would matter which one. You aren't about causing me pain…you…repeatedly prove how much you love to make me feel good. What do you think our orgasm ratio is…overall…three to one?"

_He almost smiled._

"_Please don't stop ogling me," she said in a pleading voice, but with a smile on her lips. "Our mutual desire isn't ugly or hurtful. The fact that we express ourselves well in this way…that we enjoy expressing ourselves through sex and admiration…face it, sometimes it's more like…veneration. It isn't violent…or cruel. It's beautiful…and hot."_

_He smirked, briefly, still a bit uncertain. "If anything, you're the one who's abused sexually by me," she said loudly, finally causing him to laugh just a bit. "Please," she asked, "Let's not let this ruin the way things are between us. Don't feel like you should have been there sooner, and don't doubt that you would have come. Because you would come…every time. Don't feel bad for watching me, for wanting me…because it's mutual…consensual…and fine…call me shallow or vain…I still love it. It still makes me feel good. I still…provoke it from you."_

_She walked over to the space in front of him. "It was so amazing__…_the way you showed up like that," she said solemnly. 

"_Doesn't matter," he said, still uncomfortable with compliments, "You would have worked it out. I just expedited things." _

_She moved even closer to him, he stood, leaning against the wall, looking away. "No, I needed you. And you showed up…out of nowhere."_

_She leaned in close to him and whispered, her voice full of concern, "Please tell me you still want me."_

"_Of course I want you," he said, his eyes focusing on her. "That…wouldn't change how I feel…any of the ways I feel."_

_Reaching behind herself slowly, Cuddy arched her back as she unzipped her dress, wriggling it down off of her shoulders and allowing it to drift down her body. It slipped, slowly at first, from her shoulders, but gained momentum and eventually rushed to the ground. His eyes slowly found her ankles, still partially hidden in cascades of fabric. She waited, he could see she was nervous, worried that perhaps something really did change. In a way, he supposed, it did, but not in the way she feared. _

_His eyes slowly drifted up to her knees and across her thighs, to the tiny dark blue panties she was still wearing. His gaze jumped upwards to her eyes and noticed the nervous smile on her face. She stepped forward, walking over the dress on the floor and coming closer to him, and he began to feel his body's pull toward her. His mind wanted her too, perhaps most of all, but he was still hesitant._

_When she was close, her fingers touched his shoulders, and slid to his neck, eventually pulling him toward her for a delicate kiss of faint brushes of lips and exchange of breath. She ran the backs of her fingers down his chest to his abdomen, confirming his presence, wanting to use her touch to ensure that the man she wanted was the man in front of her. _

_Her hip pressed into his and she leaned closer, her fingers finally grabbing his shirt and jerking him roughly down to her. "I want you so badly, I need to have you," she whispered almost desperately. _

_He was resigned, content to allow her to take what she needed, to set the pace, to do only the things she was comfortable doing. He still expected her to stop at any moment, but relinquished the control to her. She unbuttoned his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, pressing her lace covered breasts into his torso. Her knee wedged between his, increasing the contact and allowing her hip to press enticingly into his pelvis. His body reacted because his body always reacted to her. He couldn't rid himself of the feeling that he didn't want her to feel used._

_Her hands smoothed across his stomach, near-tickling his skin and feeling his muscles jump slightly under her touch. She leaned into him to feel his arousal intensifying, and she felt that satisfaction, she always wanted to turn him on, part of her always worried he'd grow tired of her. Her hand moved to the bulge in his jeans, her fingers outlining his erection, pushing with greater pressure against him and listening as he stifled a moan. She opened his jeans, while he kicked off his shoes and when he was freed of his clothing, she pressed her body back against his to feel the strength of his arousal against her stomach. She instantly wanted him in her, fucking her, she wanted to come clinging to him, hard, feeling the buildup and release, and yet, she wanted so much more. _

_She stooped down, her hands on his hips, pushing him back against the wall while she ran her tongue slowly along his sex. There was no denying his need for her anymore. Her lips wrapped around him, alternating between the tip, and his length. As wonderful as her attention felt, he couldn't distract himself entirely from his concern for her. She sensed his sudden concern and stood, whispering against him, "What do you want to do?"_

"_I just want to feel you."_

"_I'm__…_right here. I'm yours," she offered, standing back and offering herself to him while she removed the final remnants of her clothing.

_He led her to the bed, and pulled her on top of him, trying still to give her the control of the situation. She was sitting on him, straddling him, and leaned forward over him, her breasts in his face, and he found his fingers softly drifting to her sides, and then up to her breasts, directing one to his mouth where he sucked and licked with near reverence._

_His touches and attentions were still soft, gentle, allowing her dominance, but that night, she really didn't want dominance over their lovemaking. She wanted him to take her, to show her how he felt, how much he wanted her, to remind her that these touches were pleasurable, to remind her that he was still the only man that would be under her, in her, surrounding her. _

"_What's next?" she asked insistently._

"_I want to taste you," he answered._

"_I'm still here__…_and I'm still yours," she insisted, and found him still cautious. "I want you to get me off, I want to feel your mouth on me, your tongue licking me and in me…please."

_Her plea was more than desire and physical ache. At that moment, he realized what she needed from him, and how badly. He easily lifted her over his torso, his lips meeting her sex insistently, his tongue quickly parting her already wet folds. Her back arched with pleasure as she pressed herself into him. His hands covered her thighs, finding her ass eventually and palming her roughly. He listened for cues, tones, hints that maybe this wasn't what she wanted, but all he found was verification for his actions. _

_From that position, his hands were free to roam about her body, which they did at first, eventually settling on her hips, rocking them at the pace he wanted, and finally pinning her against him while he licked her lovingly but unrelentingly to her first orgasm. She slid down his body, bringing her still quivering sex closer so she could take him inside her, when he stopped her. "I want you so badly," he said calmly. _

_Her palms surrounded his erection and he groaned when her hands started to pump him slowly, her hands moving together to surround as much of him as she could. "You've always made me want you," he groaned. "I will always want you."_

_She moved again to take him inside of her and he stopped her. "We're doing what I want to do, right?" he asked. _

_He rolled her off of him, and settled over her, his hips between her thighs, his stomach pressing against her sex while she pulsed her hips up toward him. She wound her fingers around his arm, finding his hand, eventually locking fingers with his, and she pulled his hand above her head, so that he was pinning her hand against the bed. Her chest was rising and falling more rapidly, her body desperate for both for escalation and release. He found her other hand, taking her lead, and brought it up over her head, so that he was pinning both of her hands beneath one of his. "Please fuck me," she asked, her eyes as pleading as her voice. "I want to feel you, I want to feel that it's you."_

"_It's me," he grumbled, both aroused and excited that she still repeatedly chose him in a way so adamant that it neared desperation. _

_Her legs wrapped around him encouragingly, as his body easily found her warmth without guidance, and he pushed with almost impossible restraint into her. Her head was tipped back as she savored the steady and welcomed invasion. After all of their time together, she still loved his size, the thick insistence of him filling her, that slight pain while she adapted to him. She could feel the progression of him into her, and the halt and rock of their bodies when he couldn't progress any further. Her sex was already twitching in near orgasm, her body begging on her behalf to continue. _

_She wondered if he believed that he was all she wanted, that she craved the familiarity of him, that she hoped with every fiber of her being that he would be the last man she'd ever take inside of her. She craved the familiarity, the sensation that was uniquely him near her, against her, everywhere._

_He still had her hands pinned over her head, but her body moved in waves from her shoulder to her hips to meet his, to take him in her, and he found the comforting feeling of being almost entirely swallowed by her, drawn into her body. Their hips rocked decisively, not rapidly but firmly. With her hands pinned by him, she was able to allow the surrender she so desperately needed, to turn herself over to him, to the one person she trusted to turn her entire being over to without hesitation. _

_She knew, as well as he did, that ultimately, even in that instance, she had plenty of sovereignty over her person. She chose her partner, and she could have stopped the entire encounter with the smallest word or gesture. _

_They were moving together, gasping and panting as they writhed a bit more, their pace increasing almost involuntarily. "Stop worrying…just let go," she asked._

_It was as if something in that moment shifted in him, she could feel the abandonment of his concerns. When he picked up his pace and force, she met him encouragingly, wanting him to captivate her needs entirely, to both take and give in a place where trust existed in its fullest capacity. He pummeled into her, their bodies joining with enough voraciousness to leave them both with aches the next day, a way that was all-encompassing, complete, total, so distinctly them. _

_It took them too much of their lifetimes to turn themselves over to each other, but once they did, it was fully. When Cuddy's voice turned lower, more raspy, obviously closer to the edge, House's body responded to every cue. They came together within seconds, both trying to continue until their bodies could no longer comply. She pulled him up to her, settling back properly into the bed, and pulling his body half on hers, so she could still breathe, and yet keep him protectively over her. His leg and his arm were draped over her, pulling her to him tightly. Her breath slowed steadily, as satisfied sighs and groans eventually turned to a few tears. He didn't overreact, he stayed steadily against her, reassuringly, allowing the feelings that were lingering from her earlier ordeal to spill out. _

_Finally, lying sated next to him, the reality of what could have been in the clinic that day rushed at her. She was physically unharmed from the threat, but her consciousness allowed her to feel the fears of what could have been. She whispered to him, "I know you don't believe me…but I've never felt as protected and safe as I do with you."_

_He nodded and kissed her head, knowing, in his mind, that he felt safer with her than he ever had with anyone else in his life._

* * *

When Cuddy walked into the office, she went to House's desk. She whispered, "Are you sure you want to do this? You owe them nothing. We could ship both Callahan's to a treatment facility elsewhere by tomorrow…where you wouldn't have to deal with them."

House said, softly, "I don't know what to do about this yet. I'm not good at fake family time, or playing getting to know you. I _am _good at fixing people. People are confusing…curing people makes sense."

"That's what you need to do?"

"Right now, that's what I need to do."

"OK," she answered without hesitation. "Then_…_here's the trial that looked most promising…and an alternative trial that's a bit newer."

She placed printed sheets of information in front of him. He looked them over for a moment, and then looked up at her face. He could see, she didn't want to do this, she wanted nothing more to do with either Mike or Frank Callahan. It was his choice, it was what he needed. He nodded, "Thanks, I'll look over these tonight, tomorrow we'll present the options."

She nodded and began to walk away and he mumbled hoarsely, "Cuddy?"

When she turned back to him, she noticed that he was looking her over, meeting her gaze and offering a smile filled with admiration. After he finished his assessment of her, he whispered low enough so only she could hear, "You are so fucking sexy."

She smiled flirtatiously, raising an eyebrow, "You're looking pretty good over there, too."


	8. By Example

_A/N-Happy Monday! Thanks to everyone who's reading…and to all who dropped me some review love since the last time: LoveMyHouse, MsStevieCooper, JLCH, partypantscuddy, jaybe61, Alltheloveintheworld, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, OldSFfan, 6cbrilhante, Suzieqlondon, ClareBear14, Alex, Abby, Boo's House, HuddyGirl, CaptainK8, dmarchl21, Mon Fogel, Josam and KiwiClare.  
_

* * *

Late the next morning, House entered Mike's room and placed the fact sheets from both studies down on the tray table. "Hi," Mike said, with a friendly but weak voice.

"Two drugs," House said, pointing at the table without reciprocating the greeting. "This one has been more tested, seems safe, but slightly less effective. This other one has been less tested, a bit risky, but so far, more effective. Which one do you want to go with?"

"I'm fine with the less tested one," Mike answered, sniffling slightly.

"OK," House said while exiting the room.

He stopped at the door when Mike said, "So, where'd you grow up?"

House kept his hand on the door, looking vaguely back into the room, "All over."

"You moved a lot?"

"Yes," House answered testily. "Are we done now?"

"I've got a lot of unfilled time, and an uncle I know nothing about. A _famous_ uncle I know almost nothing about."

"I have to go ask for the drugs we're going to pump you full of."

"You could come back after you ask for them."

"I'm not much for playing reunited family."

"You seem close with your kids. You seem comfortable playing family with them," Mike offered, hopefully.

"Because it's not playing. They _are_ my family."

"I really enjoyed their visit. Your kids are…really sweet. Very empathetic with the sick."

"Yes. Possibly related to the fact that they've spent a quarter of their life in here…with sick people."

"They really seem to love you. My grandfather said you all seem very close."

"It's amazing what being present does for a relationship."

"You must be so grateful. You have them…and Dr. Cuddy, she seems very caring…"

"I don't lack understanding or appreciation for what I have, I just don't have a need to expand my family to include people who aren't important."

"I was just making an observation. Sharing what I saw," the younger man offered.

"What's your point?"

"You're lucky. I'll never have those things."

"This trial is promising," House said, as he moved to leave again, but found himself unable to refrain from asking one question. "Why not tell me, right when you got here? Why not tell me what was wrong with you? Treatment's almost always better if you start it as soon as possible."

"My grandfather asked me not to tell you."

"He doesn't control your actions. Cuddy was in here alone with you a few times, why not tell her about your diagnosis? She actually cares about people, so if you asked her to keep it between the two of you, she would have."

"You care too. You just don't want to," Mike smiled. "Look," he said sadly, "I promised my grandfather I wouldn't tell, we made a deal."

House was intrigued, "What was the deal?"

"Did you see my file yet?"

"Yea, this morning."

"I was told that I developed leukemia because of the treatment I received for the testicular cancer I had when I was still a kid. I was only fifteen. Had surgery, chemo…honestly, even at that age, I didn't want to bother. They said I was cured after five years cancer free. Now I have leukemia. Cure one thing…get another. I've been flung between hospitals and specialists…brought here…and for what? What am I really hoping for? Five years of remission, then do this all over again? What's the best outcome for me?" Mike asked, resigned, but not bitter or resentful.

"It all depends, could be one year, could be ten."

"I don't want to do this again. My last specialist said I'm too far gone…that I should call in hospice…ask to be made comfortable. I'm tired of fighting. My father, my grandfather…will never stop. I made them the promise that I'd go along with all of this, if they promise to let me go when it doesn't work…or if it comes back. No more wild treatments, no holistic treatment centers, or cancer facilities, no special diets, no homeopathic healers."

House sat on the edge of the bed near his nephew's feet and tilted his head as he considered the options. "I could fake the treatment, if you're really sure. We don't have to tell your grandfather…or anyone. I can just hang saline bags."

"I thought you weren't into extended family."

"I'm not," House shrugged.

"Then why help me with this?"

"Because…ultimately it's your decision, not your father's or grandfather's. You've been through a lot. You look tired. There would be no guilt, no explanations…no one needs to spend their final days being nagged by someone who wants to _help them _with something they don't want helped with."

"What would you do if you had to make this decision?"

"I'm not eager to check out. I'd try it."

"What if you were me…no wife…no kids to think about?"

House breathed with thought, "I'd do the same thing. I'd try the riskiest solution that shows the most promise. I'd throw it all in. If it doesn't work, you lose very little…yet you have the best chance of a decent outcome."

"That's what I want to do then."

"OK," House agreed. "I'm thinking it'll take Cuddy a day or two to get the drugs brought here."

"So, I'll be part of a drug study?" Mike asked.

"Not really. You'll be the recipient of experimental treatment, but not part of the actual study."

"Why won't I be part of the study?"

"Cuddy'll pull strings, get access to the drugs, but the actual study takes place in a very controlled environment. Administered in the same place, under certain circumstances, for patients meeting certain criteria. Your stats aren't too hot. They want people a little less completely screwed than you."

Mike smiled, yawning. "So you think Dr. Cuddy can convince them to let us try the drugs without being part of the study?"

"Cuddy could make a living selling snowsuits in the Sahara if she felt like it. You'll get the drugs."

"I am sorry…for my grandfather's behavior."

"Why be sorry? You aren't responsible."

"How much do you know about what happened between my grandfather and your mother?"

"What like…positions?" House asked with mock sincerity.

"Oh my god!" Mike cringed, "God, that's…disgusting."

House couldn't completely hide a smile at the younger man's cringe. "Not much," House answered more seriously. "Why?"

"You may have noticed that my father isn't here."

"I did"

"They aren't speaking…since my grandfather told the family about you. My grandfather…judged my dad pretty harshly when he divorced my mother for another woman."

"Hypocrisy sucks."

"I think my grandfather thinks he…took the higher road…"

"Better to cheat and stay than to leave."

"Apparently that's the disagreement."

House stood to leave and Mike asked, "Did you…have a good childhood?"

"Depends on when you ask…what day you're asking about…and your definition of good. I'll go tell Cuddy what treatment option you're choosing."

"Do you really know how lucky you are to have what you have?"

"We'll let you know what's going on with your treatment tomorrow," House said with a nod before he left.

* * *

House found Cuddy in her office, enthusiastically discussing something with two residents who had recently started at the clinic. He waited in the corner, watching the way she spoke with conviction before dismissing them.

"I'm jealous," House teased, "I thought you saved your passionate arguments for me."

"Nope. Passionate arguments are free for anyone I disagree with…the naked arguments are for you alone."

"Naked arguments are hard for me to win, but they're still my favorites," he smirked and rounded her desk, sitting on the surface in front of her.

She was seated and looked up at him, saying, "Talk to Mike about the treatment options?"

"Among other things," House said, leaning down to her eye level.

With his hands braced on the top of his cane, he kissed her, much more fervently than she expected. She sighed, taken off guard, and found herself standing up so she could better reach him. His hands stayed on his cane with infuriating passivity. As his lips crossed her jaw line to her ear, he whispered, "He's going with the Columbia trial."

"Urgh," Cuddy groaned at the intrusion of work on the intimate moment, and then backed up, "Wait, really? Are you serious?"

"Yea," he said, returning to her neck and feeling her move closer as she responded to the sensations of his touch. Once her hand reached his shoulder, and he thought she might try to climb up on the desk, he backed away from her kiss, "Settle down there," he teased.

"Settle down? What are you doing?"

"I'm…appreciating you."

"Oh really?"

"Yup. I'll be more than happy to appreciate more parts of you after the kids are sleeping tonight. Right now is just…an…appreciation down payment."

"I don't know what I did to deserve all of this appreciation."

"I'm being proactive…since getting your talented little hands on this drug is probably going to be a major pain in the ass."

"Is he sure this is the way he wants to go?"

"He just wants to get better…or not. He's done playing around."

"OK, I'll see what I can do."

"Where's the Duo?" House asked, looking around.

"Celia's got them at her desk."

"I'm taking them home for the rest of the day. Unless you really, really, really…_really_ need me for something here."

"Even if they send a courier, the drugs won't get here today. Soonest we can start treatment would be tomorrow night…but I'm thinking more likely two days. Even if it does come, you don't have to be here to administer the drugs or monitor the patient…this isn't really your kind of _case_."

"True," he responded. "You'll make it home for dinner tonight?"

"Definitely"

"Perfect. I'll take the Duo home, and we'll see you in a few hours."

When Cuddy arrived at home that night, the kitchen was a mess…which was not atypical when her family was there alone. House often conducted experiments when he was home with them. There was also something that smelled unbelievably good cooking in the oven. Jack hopped down from a step stool in front of the counter and ran to hug Cuddy. After she hugged him, she remained in her kneeling position, and held him at arm's length to look at his outfit. Jack was dressed in an over-sized, wrinkled, food-stained, button-down white shirt, with jeans, and small green sneakers.

"Nice outfit," Cuddy mused.

"Dad said we should dress up for dinner."

Cuddy giggled, kissing her son on the cheek, "You look insanely handsome."

"Ensaphis on insane," Jack answered, doing his own impersonation of his father.

Jack and Cuddy went to the kitchen where House was cooking, and Ava was perched on a stool on the other side of the counter. Cuddy rested her chin on her daughter's shoulder, and watched while Ava held out a paperclip bent into a hook shape with strings of a jelly-like substance hanging from it. "Gross, huh?" Ava said excitedly.

"Vile," Cuddy said, smiling and nodding supportively.

"It's DNA…from a kiwi! How cool is that?" Ava said, her eyes eager with learning.

"Pretty cool," Cuddy responded, kissing Ava's temple before looking down at her outfit, a very close replica of Jack's 'formalwear,' including one of House's recycled shirts covering her like a smock.

"I had no idea tonight was House-style black tie," Cuddy jested as she walked over to House while he busily chopped, "I hope I have something rumpled enough to get in the door."

"Isn't dinner here always formal?" House asked.

"I forgot. So the kids are playing with DNA?"

"Next week, we're cloning!" House retorted.

"While you're cooking? Impressive! Meeting culinary needs and breaking new scientific ground…all right here by the sink."

"We made dessert," Ava said as she poked and studied the gelatinous strands separated from the kiwi.

"Oh? What's for dessert?" Cuddy asked.

"We made ice cream…with _liquid nitrogen_," Ava said in a moment filled with deviousness and pride. "I almost hoped Dad would get it on his finger so I could see if it would shatter into bazillions of pieces."

"Strange that he wasn't willing to sacrifice a digit for the experiment," Cuddy commented sarcastically as she began to walk away. "I'm going to get changed, I'll be right back." She took two steps, and then said to House, "Liquid nitrogen?"

"If _you_ were liquid nitrogen…would you rather be used to burn off skin lesions or make ice cream?" House asked.

Cuddy pondered the question for a few seconds, looking around the counter and seeing safety glasses and protective gloves, and then answered, "There's no contest, is there?"

House shifted his attention from his work to her and said, "There really isn't. I rescued it from work for a higher purpose. Go change."

* * *

_**-1 year after moving to Barbados-**_

_Ava was usually quite content, but there were times when she would become agitated and stressed and had nowhere to go with her energy. Her parents often took her out to run along the sand, or climb in a nearby park, but stress at school was irritating her, and little seemed to sway her from bursts of temper or provide her with any real relief from her frustration. _

_When Kate came down for breakfast one morning, House was sitting at her table, drinking the coffee that brewed in a pot with a timer so it would be ready when Kate got up. "You must be the new pool boy," she muttered as she trudged to the counter. "You do know I'll kill you if you finished the coffee and didn't make more, right?"_

"_Is 'pool boy' lesbo-speak for 'guy we keep around to use mercilessly in wild, women-filled orgies?' If it is, then yes. I am the new pool boy."_

_Kate scratched her neck as she tried to wake up, "We aren't quite as subtle and mysterious as you think we are. 'Pool boy' is lesbo-speak for 'guy who cleans the pool.'"_

"_Then I quit."_

_Kate smirked while she poured her coffee. "You're up early."_

"_Need to make a decision before Ava goes to school."_

"_About?"_

"_W__hat to do about the idiot she has teaching her. I despise her."_

"_Lisa said she's…not very compassionate."_

"_Who in the hell teaches kids that young and hates kids? Aren't those teachers supposed to be the ones with mismatched socks who crawl around on the floor identifying with their students?" House asked.  
_

"_Well, from what I heard, this woman's retiring at the end of this year. She's probably tired and grouchy."_

"_She is. But she's bothering my kid. Ava's all…stressed and temperamental and she can't seem to shake it. She keeps getting stuck in angry mode. We need to find a way to help her survive the next four weeks until the end of school."_

"_Tried the usual outlets?"_

"_Not working. Cuddy ran the kid around for hours yesterday. I think Cuddy might sleep for a month, but Ava had enough reserved energy for rage after they got home."_

"_Talk to her about what's wrong?"_

"_Tried, she's too distracted by her irritation to figure out what's wrong. She's stuck and there's a lot wheel spinning going on."_

"_Well," Kate said as she thought, "When you're trying to sort through things…cases, problems, arguments with your wife…what do you do?"_

"_Something else. Something…distracting."_

"_Ava's a smart kid. Her brain…is like yours. It's always on and it's always flying at a million miles an hour. Did you try occupying her brain instead of trying to occupy her physically? I mean…you are trying to tire out her body, but maybe it's not enough to exhaust her body. You need to tire out her brain."_

"_How?"_

"_Think of something that's interesting to you…because chances are, it will be interesting to her."_

"_I seriously doubt that it's appropriate for me to share my collection of…" House stopped, suddenly done joking, and done sadly pondering, and his face lit up. "You're right__._"

_House hopped up for the door, "I won't be at work today."_

"_See ya," Kate answered._

"_You know," House said, stopping momentarily, "You interested in a job as our pool girl? Because for straight men, 'pool girl' actually means…"_

"_Get the hell out of here," Kate interrupted as she pushed him toward the door. _

_House decided to entertain Ava with science. Cuddy took Jack for a day at the beach while House and Ava held their own science fair. They microwaved things like marshmallows and eggs, and discussed the reasons behind the exploding egg and the expanding marshmallow. Then they made a few different types of slime and discussed polymers. After that, they built a small electric motor out of things they had around their home. _

_While they worked, Ava would occasionally begin to discuss small pieces of the things that were troubling her at school. The pressure to come clean about her feelings was gone. Her mind was largely occupied with doing, with thinking and learning, and her emotions were finally able to settle and make sense. Later as a teen and adult, she'd find challenges on her own to occupy her racing thoughts when she needed a break from the noise in her head, employing the coping mechanism her father showed her as a small child. _

* * *

After the kids were in bed, and the dinner and experiments were cleaned up in the kitchen, House and Cuddy were in their living room finally relaxing. The quiet was welcome, the TV on without volume, flickering light throughout the otherwise dark room as they sat on the sofa with their feet up.

"So, I was able to get Mike the drugs you want him on…a courier will hand carry, but it's going to take at least twenty-four hours. It's the best they could do."

"Thank you," House said, so tiredly that Cuddy thought he might be asleep with his next breath. Then he perked up and said, "Would you rather be cheated on, or left altogether?"

Cuddy's head jutted up from the back of the sofa, "Is there a third option?"

"Not in this scenario"

"I'm hoping this is a theoretical discussion."

"It's completely real…it just has nothing to do with _our_ relationship."

"It's hard to say. I'd personally rather avoid both. Most days I'd say, without a doubt, that I'd rather be left. I don't like dishonesty or sneakiness. But…I have to admit I'd hate to lose you in any circumstance."

"Even then?"

"Even then…I just don't see me being able to move on from something like that…to be able to accept infidelity. I'd always worry…I'd always feel hurt and betrayed. So completely sad and so completely angry at the same time. I don't know if I could really be as open as I am with you…intimately speaking. I don't think I could stay in that relationship. I guess…you never know until you're in that situation."

"I'd think that's how my dad probably felt. Coupled with the fact that he didn't really find out…he inferred, or his kid pointed it out so blatantly that even those most talented in the art of denial couldn't ignore it. So I guess he also felt…he was played for a fool…made an ass out of."

"That…sucks. It will never excuse his behavior…not in my book. But it sucks."

"It's ironic that…given this whole mixed up scenario…the fact that both of my biological parents were cheating…given the impact that had on my life…when you were pregnant I never for a second thought that…maybe it was someone else's. The idea never even flashed in my brain."

"How often were we apart long enough for me to cheat?" she asked pragmatically.

"I like that that's your defense," House said with a chuckle.

"It's not a defense…I have nothing to defend…but it is true. We were together a lot_…_we wanted to be."

"We had a few hours here and there to ourselves. Face it…it really doesn't take _that_ long."

"But it should," she said with a smirk. "Proof that I'm really not missing out on anything."

"What do I say…when my mom gets here? She's soon going to be here…and when she comes…I'm assuming she'll notice Frank, and she'll want to talk to me," he asked as he stretched an arm around Cuddy.

"What do you want to say?"

"I don't know. She cheated. She lied to my dad. She lied to me. She...didn't protect me when I needed her to. I don't know what to say about any of that."

"I wish I knew what would help."

"You help. You are…" House was thinking, uncertain at first of his words, or his meaning. After all of their years together there were still things that were hard to say. "You're the opposite of all of those things that I don't like about her. I mean…I love my mom. I'll always…love her…she's…my mom. But all of those attributes that I don't love about her…"

"House…"

"Wait…please…just let me… If a man…if anyone…hurt Jack or Ava you'd kill them with your bare hands. You'd destroy them…castrate them…you'd do something_…_anything to defend them. You wouldn't fuck some guy when I was out of town. If you did, if you really fucked something up, you'd insist that the next right thing was done, no matter what the consequences for yourself."

"Thank you," she mumbled, almost embarrassed.

They heard Jack yell, loudly, a sound that one could rationalize easily as a nightmare, but always made a parent's blood run cold. They were up as quickly as possible, heading toward the back part of the house, finding Jack's room open, and a small bedside lamp on, but there was already someone in the room with him. Sitting near the top of the bed, with Jack's head in her lap, was Ava.

She looked startled from the sound, woken by the same blood curdling scream that brought her parents back to Jack's room. She was gently brushing Jack's hair back from his face, and humming softly. House walked gingerly into the room to take her back to her own bed, and she muttered softly, and with whole-bodied certainty, "I can do this. I got this, Dad."

House looked back at Cuddy and they quickly agreed, leaving the room, allowing Ava to tend to her brother's nightmares. It wasn't the first time Ava protected or comforted her brother. Strangely it sometimes seemed to be one thing that really helped her when she herself felt most vulnerable. The ability to be seen as comforting, as strong, as nurturing; the ability to be seen as everything she needed to find, and knowing that she learned those skills because such attentions were paid to her.

They checked on the kids frequently throughout the night. Ava never left her brother's side. She was still in a seated position, eventually slipping into the corner made by Jack's headboard and the wall.

The next morning, in spite of nightmares and uncomfortable positions for sleep, both kids seemed happier and more well-rested than they'd been since the Callahan's arrived on the island. While House was getting dressed that morning, he heard Jack say to Ava, "Hope everybody's ready, because Nana's coming tonight!"


	9. Things Learned

_A/N-Thanks to all of the reviewers since last time: Jane Q. Doe, IHeartHouseCuddy, KiwiClare, OldSFfan, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, southpaw2, housebound, MsStevieCooper, partypantscuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, TheHouseWitch, jaybe61, jkarr, Boo's House (and Boo's Socks), Suzieqlondon, 6cbrilhante, dmarchl21, Abby, BJAllen815, HuddyGirl, victoria, ClareBear14, Alltheloveintheworld, and bladesmum_

_Starting off with the flashback. _

_The "PDR" is the Physicians' Desk Reference. It is a huge book of relevant information about prescriptions drugs.  
_

* * *

_**-1 year after arriving in Barbados-**_

_Cuddy was sick. So very sick. She had been vomiting the evening before and most of the night, and when the children woke up, they were eagerly bouncing around her. House had to go in to see a patient who was near death. Kate was on her way to get the kids, but she needed to finish a few things before she could get there. _

_Ava ran from her parents' bedroom to get something that she knew would make Cuddy feel better. Two year-old Jack sat next to his mother on the bed, bouncing only slightly, although in his mind, he was holding completely still so he wouldn't upset her stomach. Cuddy stood, suddenly feeling another wave of nausea and stumbling to get to the bathroom. She was on the floor, kneeling, crouched over the commode, trying to hold her hair back and keep her eyes on her tiny, two year-old son. He followed her into the bathroom, and she felt him patting her back with his small, pudgy hand. "S'ok, Mommy," he said sweetly. "You be betta soon."_

"_Thank you, buddy," she muttered as she wiped her face and flushed the toilet, electing to lay back on the cold tile floor rather than make her way back to her bed. _

_Jack stood over her, looking down. "You need somfin?"_

"_Can you get me that washcloth?" Cuddy asked._

_Jack meandered to the edge of the tub, and brought the washcloth to her. Cuddy sat slowly, reaching up to the faucet, running cool water to splash on her face, and finally placing the cold cloth along her neck. "Books!" he declared as if he'd come up with the cure to her sickness._

_Jack came back a few minutes later with a stack of books, and sat next to her on the floor. He started pretending to read and then said, "You read 'em."_

_Cuddy smiled at him, "Honey, I don't know if I can," she said, sitting up quickly and dry heaving over the toilet._

_Ava returned with a plastic cup. "This'll help."_

_It was instant cocoa from a pouch, barely stirred into the water so that clumps of cocoa mix hovered on the surface. "Since you won't let me use the stove or the microwave," the girl accused, "I had to let the water run in the sink until it was a little warm. And I can't reach the tea bags, but this'll help."_

_Cuddy smiled at her daughter and looked at the drink. "You are so thoughtful," Cuddy managed to say. _

"_Drink some," Ava said._

"_Oh…" Cuddy looked at it and decided to fake a sip or two._

"_Just little sips, Mom, take it easy on your tummy," Ava warned._

_Kate appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. "Wow…bad day?"_

"_So bad."_

"_OK," Kate said as she shoveled the kids into the living room and turned on the TV. "Gimme ten minutes, then we'll get outta here."_

_Kate returned from the living room to find Cuddy still sprawled on the floor of the bathroom. "Come on, I'll put you back in bed."_

"_Just leave me here to die," Cuddy said, joking but strangely serious._

"_You don't get sick like this often."_

"_But when I do, I do it well. Always overachieving."_

"_Nice of Jack to share his tummy ache"_

"_He's a giver."_

_Kate tried to help Cuddy up from the floor, "You're gonna have to help a little," Kate said._

"_Sorry, you should go, I'm probably contagious, I feel awful, I look awful."_

"_I was hurt that you didn't at least throw on some makeup before I got here. I guess the excitement of me is wearing off," Kate scoffed sarcastically.  
_

_Kate dropped Cuddy into bed and got her the provisions she'd need to be a little more comfortable. "I was gonna take the kids to the park, but I think we'll stay here…in the yard…quiet enough for you to rest, but close enough that we can check in on you."_

"_You can go. You don't need to stay through this."_

"_I seem to remember you lugging my drunk and/or hung-over ass around on more than one occasion. I'm sure that was loads of fun!"_

"_You are returning the favor?"_

"_I have to say it…if I don't say it, and your husband finds out I didn't say it, he'll accuse me of losing my edge."_

"_Say what?"_

"_Something along the lines of better ways to 'return the favor.' We can hash out the details when you're feeling flirtier."_

"_Yes," Cuddy said weakly, pulling a sheet over her head, "You are both gods of innuendo."_

"_It's true…we really are," Kate said with a laugh. "I have my phone, call if you need me. We'll check on you in a little bit."_

_When Cuddy woke hours later, she heard Ava and Jack giggling while they watched her sleep. She opened her eyes and looked at them. "Got you broff," Jack offered._

"_Broth-th-th," Ava corrected. "Dad's home. He warmed it up, so I didn't use the microwave," she said, defending herself before Cuddy was even fully alert._

"_Thanks guys," Cuddy answered, sitting up and realizing that the worst of how she felt seemed to finally be behind her. "You guys are so nice."_

"_Yea we are," Jack answered confidently._

* * *

Midway through the day, Cuddy realized that Blythe was coming in a few short hours. Her relationship with Blythe had been complicated over the years. Blythe was welcoming and kind to Cuddy when she and House began dating again. House's mother stood up for Cuddy to Arlene, and was happy that her son found a partner. She was even happier with the addition of grandchildren, and credited Cuddy as the reason why her son was willing to have children at all. As the years went by though, and life occurred, there were subtle tensions that arose between the women.

Cuddy and House were both somewhat disappointed when Blythe ended her relationship with their benefactor, Harrison Medford a few months earlier. He was the consummate businessman, and didn't allow the ending of the relationship to impact their business arrangements, but Medford was very much like one of the family. Of course, one thing the couple learned over the years, was that families are often made up of people who aren't related biologically, or even legally, so they chose to keep Medford as one of their own.

Cuddy's acceptance of the realities of House's childhood wasn't easy, but she, like House, grew to understand that certain things were fact and little could be done to change the past. That is, until Frank Callahan showed up. Suddenly, all of those old wounds were reopened, and the sadness House felt brought out the anger and protectiveness in Cuddy. If she had to be perfectly honest, she'd readily admit that she never had the opportunity to tell Blythe exactly what she thought of her inaction in protecting her son; having that opportunity with Frank felt good. As always, Cuddy tried to find the balance between being protective and nurturing, while not being overprotective and smothering, so she tried to allow House to make the decisions about his relationship with his mother.

After Frank Callahan showed up in front of their home, and after the disclosures and events of the days immediately following his arrival, Cuddy wasn't so sure she could keep her thoughts to herself. She wanted that opportunity to tell Blythe exactly what she thought, to try to explain to her that her actions of years earlier not only hurt her son then, but continued to cause him pain in all of the years that followed. With Blythe arriving in a few hours, Cuddy had no idea how she'd react. She also had no idea how House would react.

* * *

After he came to work in the early afternoon, House found that the courier had already dropped off the experimental medicine for Mike Callahan. Cuddy must have pulled some pretty well-connected strings. Even more interesting than the drugs, was a hand written note from Cuddy. House went to see his patient.

"Drugs are here. Ready to feel shittier than you do now?" House asked boisterously as he walked through the door.

"Absolutely," Mike said.

Mike looked a lot worse than he had even the day before. "You have another decision to make," House said while he sat on the edge of the bed. "I got a note from Cuddy, we have a near match."

"Near enough?"

"Five out of six HLA antigens match. It's a pretty good match, it's the closest we can find quickly, and we're going to have to get you something…because this new drug is going to wipe out whatever marrow you have left after the last round of treatment you had before coming here. There is the chance of Graft-versus-host disease."

"They warned me about all of that, let's just go with it."

"You look…worse…"

"My joints hurt. My bones hurt. My whole fucking body hurts. I couldn't sleep, and I feel like shit," Mike said, in a rare moment where he allowed the depths of his discomfort to be seen. "Let's just move on with the treatment, and see what happens."

"Graft-versus…"

"I know," Mike snapped. "Painful, in my case, complications can be deadly, I don't care." He calmed himself for a few seconds and then said, softly, "I'm sorry, I'm in pain."

House hooked his cane on the end of the bed and walked to the other side, checking Mike's IV. After evaluating the site, House went to the cupboard nearby, and pulled out a flat package that contained the necessary supplies to start a new IV site before he sat down on the bed again.

House tied the rubber tourniquet around Mike's arm, opened the package, and cleaned the new site. Mike said, a bit confused, "Since when do doctors…no…_specialists_, do this kinda stuff? Don't you have people you pay to do this stuff so you don't have to?"

"I haven't done one of these since the very early nineties…thought it might be fun, and you seem too weak to fight back if I repeatedly miss," House jested, as he easily found the vein. "Well that was lucky, let's tempt fate and do a few more."

"Why are you doing this?"

"These should be changed every few days, and once the meds are going, we might as well keep them going without blowing out a vein."

"I mean, why are _you_ doing it?"

"I don't feel like waiting for someone else to come in and do it. I'm upping your pain meds enough so you'll feel a little better for the next few hours. You'll get a little nap, and it'll help you when we start the treatment tomorrow morning."

Mike sighed, relieved, "Thank you."

"Someone's going to come up and take you to have a port put in for your treatment. I'll make sure you're scheduled." House punched the access code in to change the dosage and pointed to Mike's arm, "You into home tattooing?"

There was a smudgy, unsteady tattoo of his own name on Mike's forearm. I have lots of little ones. Prison's boring."

House sat back before increasing the dosage, waiting for the rest of the story with an openly intrigued look on his face.

"They didn't mention it?"

"Is it something that would make me want to _not_ treat you?"

"What sort of thing would that be?"

"Are you a child molester or a rapist?"

"No!" Mike said immediately. "God, it's nothing like…that."

"What did you do?"

"I was young…dumb…trying to impress classmates in college. Some girl wanted to take a joyride."

"You did enough time to get _bored_…for a joyride?"

"We rode around campus…long enough to have our friends see us, and we brought it back. We were gone maybe fifteen minutes. It was a mail truck. That means theft of federal property. So, instead of a slap on the wrist…I got a couple of years in jail. Judge thought it was a fraternity prank and wanted to set a precedent."

House shook his head, and said, "That…really sucks. _However_, it does officially make you the most interesting Callahan," before upping the dosage and shutting the door over the control panel. "Sleep tight!"

* * *

Blythe House arrived at the airport, found her luggage, and quickly flagged down a taxi to take her to visit her family. She loved her visits to Barbados. There was a small visitor's cottage behind her son's home where she could stay, and these visits were wonderful little getaways. She was able to keep clothes and toiletries there for her use, so travel was light and usually hassle free.

She couldn't wait to see her grandchildren. Checking the time, she realized that it was a little earlier than she had anticipated, so she went first by taxi to the Center, where she expected the whole family would be for at least another hour. She walked in, dragging her small, wheeled bag behind her, and heading straight for the door to her son's office. Jack had a marker in his hand, and was decorating a large piece of construction paper, and significant portions of his skin. He dropped his marker and went to his grandmother to greet her.

She smiled widely, "Oh, Jack, how I missed you," she said, before looking at him quizzically.

Jack was smiling, but guarded and hesitant. Ava walked up even more slowly, "Hi, Nana," she said, reaching up to hug her grandmother.

"What's going on?" she asked the children, and then she looked at her son. "Is someone sick? You all seem so…gloomy."

House stood and walked over to his mother, determined to find a quiet moment to talk to her away from his children. When House was a few feet away from her, his office door popped open and Frank practically shouted, "Why didn't you tell me the good news? We have a donor for Mike?"

Blythe's back was to the door, and she froze at the familiarity of the voice behind her, unable to place it, but knowing it was significant. She turned slowly as the man continued, "Thank you, Greg, I can't begin to thank you enough, I know this has been really uncomfortable for you, but…but…"

Frank began to stutter as the dignified woman turned slowly to look at him. The silence, the space in between realizations, was huge, a gaping hole in discourse and understanding. As the gap closed, and Frank and Blythe slowly came to the realization of the identity and significance of the person next to them, they both faded to pale and gaped. They were completely unprepared to see the person who stood in front of them.

Then Blythe did the one thing her son didn't expect her to do. She fainted. This wasn't a ladylike or graceful faint, as depicted in movies of refined, proper, upper-class ladies overwhelmed by heat or tragedy. Blythe dropped like a pile of bricks faster than anyone around her could react. Jack screamed the girlish scream of a small boy who was terrified, "Nana's dead."

"She's not dead, relax," House said calmly while Ava took her brother's hand.

"Don't be such a wuss," Ava said, "She just passed out."

Jack scowled at Ava and the two children stood over their grandmother as she began to regain consciousness. Cuddy ran in from her office when she heard the noise, and quickly looked around to assess the situation, going to Blythe's side to help her get up from her position on the floor. "Did you break anything? Are you OK?" Cuddy asked almost immediately.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Blythe asked Frank almost as soon as she could speak.

"My grandson's sick," Frank answered.

"This is _my_ son…_my_ family…you should have spoken to me first."

Frank waved her comment off dismissively.

"You could have warned me, Greg," Blythe said.

"I guess he learned that secret stuff from you," Ava said calmly, easily meeting the disapproving glare from her grandmother.

"Gregory, your children are developing such mouths," Blythe said, in a rare disapproving comment about her grandchildren, brought on by the sheer discomfort she felt at the situation.

Frank took her hand in his in reintroduction. "It's been a very, very long time since we've spoken, and a much longer time since I've actually seen you. Rather than having this discussion in front of everyone, please join me for a drink…perhaps some dinner."

"You must be joking," Blythe responded.

"I'm not. Your family can allow me a few hours to catch up with you while they finish working. I think we have a lot to discuss that should be kept between the two of us."

Frank suddenly looked very proper and chivalrous, as if he was asking a debutante at the ball for a dance.

Cuddy had slowly stepped closer to House, watching, as he did, the strange set of circumstances unfold before them. "Fine," Blythe allowed, "we can go get a drink and discuss some of these matters, without my family being dragged into this mess."

"We're already in this mess," Cuddy said, unable to completely filter her comments, "We've been living this mess."

Frank smiled at Blythe, "Let me check on my grandson, I'll meet you by the doors."

House was relieved to have a few more hours of reprieve before he had to figure out what to say to his mother about everything that happened. He treated her differently than he treated other people, usually through avoidance, but he was often exceedingly considerate of the woman's feelings.

Frank left, and House said to Cuddy quietly, "Head down to the pharmacy and hide the Viagra before Frank gets to it."

Blythe scoffed disapprovingly and Jack said, "What's Viagra?"

"Viagra's for men who…" Ava began before House interrupted her.

"How do you know what _that_ is?" House asked.

"I _read_ the PDR."

"All of it?" Cuddy asked.

Ava shrugged. "I've seen commercials too, I'm not stupid. Why do I keep having to remind you guys of that?"

Blythe laughed a little at her granddaughter and then took Cuddy's arm. "Gregory will let these children say whatever comes to mind, Lisa. Someone has to keep this family on the right track. You can't just let Greg make the rules about appropriate behavior. A good mother would…"

"What?" House said loudly interrupting.

Cuddy turned and looked at him, but before she even saw his face she could hear the loud "snap" that occurred deep within his very being. She wondered if she should try to remove the children from the situation, if she should try to calm House and encourage him to wait for a better time, but she knew, there was no other time. House had stuffed his feelings about the things that happened to him so many times to protect his mother, and he needed that tiny little catalyst to push him over the edge. He found it, as always, not in a moment of self-protection, but in a moment of protecting someone he cared about.

"Did you…just try to tell _Cuddy_ how to be a good mother?"

"You don't want your children being disrespectful, Greg," Blythe said, not yet realizing how angry her son was, but then he was there, standing over her.

"You must be fucking kidding me. You can't possibly pretend that _you _are in a position to tell _Cuddy_ what a good mother does! Jesus," House roared loudly, "You may be capable of conveniently forgetting large portions of my childhood…all of those nasty little things you allowed, but I can't selectively forget the things in my past that completely shaped who the fuck I am. You helped to create this mess," he said pointing at himself so angrily that Cuddy wondered if he'd soon pass out as well.

He was red-faced, filled with rage and anger, veins sticking out in his neck and along his forehead as he stood with menacing irritation over the still dignified Blythe. "You're more than happy to brag about my genius, but what about the litany of things I fucked up along the way. I don't see you claiming ownership of my fucking nightmares. Of my fucking dysfunction. Your claims of influence are certainly fucking ones of convenience, aren't they? Cuddy's a better mother when she's asleep than you were in your finest of maternal moments."

He was trying to gain his bearings, trying to reel in his racing thoughts as his anger thudded through his entire body and then Blythe said the only thing that came to her mind. "See," she said calmly, "There is a bit of your dad in you, isn't there?"

Cuddy expected House to lash back, to correct her, but he didn't. He sighed out heavily as her words kicked into his chest. His shoulders dropped and Cuddy saw him begin to crumble right there in front of her, his moment of finally allowing so much pent up emotion out from the depths of himself, and his feet were swiftly ripped out from under him. She could see it, the calm, cold acceptance that he _was_ the monster he feared becoming, and the huge ground he gained over time as he found himself while he was busy being a husband and father was being forgotten.

Cuddy walked up to Blythe with such composure, that Blythe seemed to think that Cuddy was there to support her, perhaps an understanding between mothers, and then Cuddy said, "If you believe that to be true for one second, then you are no longer welcome in my home, or near my children."

Cuddy wasn't screaming or loud, she was precise, calculating, so hurt by the statement herself because of the damage it did to someone she cared so thoroughly about that she didn't feel capable of screaming out the anger that was welling inside.

"John had such a temper," Blythe stated evenly, obviously doubting the sincerity of Cuddy's threat.

"I'm not joking, Blythe. Do you honestly think that's true? How many times do you think House has hit our children? I'll give you time to come up with a guess."

"I don't know, Lisa…"

"Never. He has never smacked, spanked, slapped…pick any word or euphemism to that effect…he's never done it to our children. I'll save you the embarrassment of not being able to answer my next few questions by answering them for you. He has never forced his children to endure humiliating or painful punishments, and he would never tell them that they are useless or hopeless or unlovable. Ever. Don't make statements that just aren't true."

"You're right," Blythe said, "I'm sorry, today has all been so unexpected, and I…reacted poorly."

"Don't apologize to me," Cuddy said, still perfectly composed. "Apologize to him. And them," she added, pointing to House and the children that were still in the room.

"I am sorry, Gregory, we can talk about this later, more calmly. Children, this discussion is really one for adults, and you shouldn't have seen or heard it, so I'm sorry for that as well."

Frank returned to the room, completely unaware of what had been going on inside of the office. "Blythe, are you ready to go?"

"I'm going to go sort through some things with Frank, and wait until cooler heads are able to prevail. Greg, we can discuss this further tonight? Privately?"

House nodded.

"Hurting you…causing you any pain…has never been my intention. I _do _love you, son," Blythe said before grabbing her rolling bag and turning to leave.

Once Blythe left the room, House let himself fall back into his sofa. His head was resting heavily in his hands, and he couldn't bear to look at his children. He didn't want to see Jack's happy face turned sad and afraid. He didn't want to see Ava's trust in him dissolved into fear and hatred. He was so horrified that his children had seen the anger inside him, they had seen the rage he tried so hard to dispel from his being. During daily life they had often seen him irritated, frustrated, even angry, but they had never seen him so furious. Ava had seen him nearly that upset once, as a toddler, when she was almost hit by a car, and it terrified her, but that was fear, this was rage.

One of the things House enjoyed most about his relationship with his children was the fact that they always looked at him without seeing the monster he thought others had seen. He struggled to look up, and began wondering what he could do to mend the gashes he caused in his relationship with them. He felt Jack's small hand on his forearm and heard the boy say, "Feeling a little better now?"

House would have chuckled, if he wasn't aching so badly, when he heard Jack ask the question that House often asked his kids after they vented. Ava sat on the sofa next to her father and said, "I was thinking, if we can get our hands on some more liquid nitrogen, we could stop at the meat shop and get some tails or feet or something. I heard that if you wait until the thing is really frozen the _whole_ way through, it really will _shatter_…we could experiment, see if it shatters after ten seconds of exposure, thirty seconds, one minute…"

House turned to Ava, and then back to Jack when his son said, "That way, we can see if stuff really shatters into billions of pieces and you don't have to give up any of your fingers."

House had to chuckle a bit at the sincerity in Jack's voice. "Thanks, guys," he said softly, his voice worn, eyes red, and showing that, in some ways, only moments earlier, he was on the verge of collapse.

House didn't think he could handle his children looking at him as if he was that horrible man, and strangely enough, they didn't. They weren't at all reserved or hesitant. They didn't flinch when he moved, or look at all afraid of him. The only looks in their eyes were love, empathy and acceptance. It was amazing that five year-old and eight year-old children were more capable of understanding than most adults. His chest still ached, he still felt a sense of pervasive sadness, but throughout all of the changes in the world around him, he had his constants. He was no less hurt than he would have been in years past when things like that would occur, but he had the compassionate acceptance of people who really loved him.

They began the walk home, Cuddy at his side, his kids running ahead, and he said, wounded, "I don't even know what to say to Mom tonight."

"You know…if I were to be completely honest…and I'll admit this to you, and you alone…I really want to hurt her…verbally, emotionally…because I want to make her understand what she did. Or I guess, what happened because of what she didn't do. Maybe a little vengeful thinking on my part." Cuddy looped her arm through his as they walked before she continued, "But I can't help but think that…the goal here shouldn't be hurting her. The goal should be…helping you to feel better."

"Insightful. So what is it that I should say that's going to make me feel all better?"

"I don't think there is one thing, or a handful of things, that will magically do that for you."

"Too bad."

"You need to say whatever you need to say…maybe whatever comes to your head. I don't know how to make you feel safe while you do that. I don't know how to protect you from that pain. But…I also think that maybe saying how you feel…letting her know…I don't know, maybe it will help."

"And if not…then at least it's done."

"Yea," she nodded, pulling his arm closer to her affectionately.

When Blythe returned from her dinner, she found her son on the sofa, feet on the coffee table, asleep so deeply that he was unaware of the world. He had a book on his lap, and it appeared that he had been reading before he fell asleep. Cuddy was at one end of the sofa, Jack curled on her lap, Ava stretching along the cushions between her parents, her feet lodged under House's back along his ribs, which probably would have hurt, but he was too tired to care. No one woke as Blythe walked quietly through the room, latching the lock on the door, and leaving a note for her son that they'd speak the next day.


	10. The Unseen

_A/N-Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter-OldSFfan, MsStevieCooper, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, housebound, LapizSilkwood, partypantscuddy, Boo's House (and Boo's socks! __ ), aussiefan12, IHeartHouseCuddy, justlobe, KiwiClare, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, TheHouseWitch, ClareBear14, 6cbrilhante, Suzieqlondon, CaptainK8, itzaboo, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, Hspirito, Josam, BJAllen815 and the Anon Guest reviewer._

_About the federal theft thing…had a close friend of the family who took a hubcap off of a mail truck as a teenager…he has carried a felony conviction on his record ever since…I wasn't entirely making that crap up!_

_Bit of a content warning here…some tough subject matter, but I needed some things to be said. All attempts were made to be thorough…yet tasteful. I've heard parts of this chapter 100 times in my head…_

* * *

_**-2 days after moving to Barbados-**_

_Having just moved, the home was in disarray. There were still boxes everywhere, and furniture was limited. House and Cuddy walked into their living room to find a pair of suspicious, blanket-covered, breathing, child-sized lumps on the sofa. They smirked at each other, and sat on either side of the lumps. "Kids must be asleep," Cuddy said, faking a yawn.  
_

"_Must be," House said, putting his arm on the lump to his left. He felt the lump stifle a giggle._

"_We'll have to do normal, boring stuff then."_

"_That sounds great. It's always so fun…when they're gone…getting to do all of that boring stuff we put off."_

"_We could watch a home fix-it program…something about sewing…or real estate." Cuddy said, as the lump next to her groaned._

"_That's too bad, I was dying for lime ice."_

"_That's so weird…me too…" Cuddy added. "Lime or mango ice__…_and I thought we could watch one of the movies we brought. I just found the box of the kids' movies. Guess we'll have to skip it."

"_I am glad the movers came with these pillows, at least we have that…while our kids sleep the day away," House said._

_Cuddy smirked. "These are the perfect pillows, the perfect size, but they need…plumped up," she said, abruptly grabbing the sides of the lump next to her to 'fluff' it up and hearing Ava giggle loudly. _

_House grabbed the other lump next to him, and heard Jack shriek as well. "Noisy pillows!" House commented, while each parent tickled the child next to them, and the children's heads finally popped out from under the blanket, faces red and sweaty from being covered._

"_Oh, thank god! You're awake!" Cuddy said, "I was dying for mango ice. And to watch this."_

_Cuddy held up a DVD case. "It's Wobin Hood… wiff da fox!" Jack screamed with joy. _

"_You found it!" Ava added. "Whew. It was so hot under there…I thought you were never going to find us!"_

* * *

House woke at two am, his family still resting quietly on the sofa, Ava's boney foot digging into his back. He stood, taking first Jack, then Ava, to their respective rooms, and then returning to Cuddy. He stood over her for a moment, considering whether he should attempt to carry her back to bed as well when his leg was already sore, and she was sleeping so soundly. He found a blanket, tossed it over her, and found the note his mother left. He sighed, flipped it over, and left Cuddy a note stating simply that he was with his patient.

The cool night air felt good on his skin while he walked leisurely back to the Center. When he arrived in his patient's room, Mike was awake. "You look less tired," House commented as he put a small cardboard box on the table.

"Yea, I feel a lot better. Thanks for the morphine…or whatever that was," Mike answered with a smile.

"You want to start the drugs tonight?"

"Same side effects as regular chemo?"

House nodded. "I'll give you something for the nausea, and for the pain, although I don't know how much either will really help."

"How many days am I on this?"

"Three days. It's intensive, but only one cycle," House answered. "Then we move you."

"Move me where?"

"Closest place we can get that specializes in marrow transplants. After the treatments are done, you'll be pretty worn out, but we have a guy who will put you on his private plane. Fewer people, less risk of infection, more comfort. It won't be the greatest hours of your life, but… Anyway, the woman you 'near match,' has already been informed, and she's prepping."

"Let's just go, I want to get this over with."

House opened the box, pulled out two different IV bags and stood to check the port that staff put in to facilitate the delivery of the medicine. He hung the bag and prepared the drip.

"You do this stuff yourself a lot…in the middle of the night?" Mike asked.

"Constantly…it keeps me grounded. Alternating Tuesdays, I do nothing but clean bedpans."

Mike laughed. "So roughly fifty percent of your answers are sarcastic?"

"Roughly. Although, it's hard to tell if I'm being sarcastic right now. If I was, it could mean that fifty percent of my answers _aren't _sarcastic…so you'd be completely mislead."

Mike laughed again, "Too bad you weren't around when I was growing up."

House pulled a chair over and put his feet on the bed while the medicine began to drain from the bag. "So, have you seen my grandfather lately?" Mike asked.

"He went to dinner with my mother earlier. That was the last I saw him."

Mike laughed yet again, then stopped when he saw House's expression. "That wasn't a joke?" Mike asked.

"'Fraid not. My mother is visiting, and they saw each other in my office. I figured he told you when he came up earlier."

"I was probably sleeping. You …want them to talk?"

"Doesn't really matter either way…I'm guessing no matter what they say, we won't all soon be wearing matching sweaters and getting our pictures taken for the family Christmas card."

Mike nodded, "My grandmother took pictures of her three kids every single year in the same spot in the living room. Even added in the grandkids when they started showing up. My father tells a lot of stories from when he was growing up…or at least he used to. When we were kids, we loved hearing them. Stories about day trips, baking cookies, birthday parties. He told great stories. The day of my aunt's first communion, when a bee flew up her dress, stung her right on her ass cheek. She tried so hard not to scream or cry. My dad said she had tears streaming down her face…and all these old biddies were talking about how she was so moved by her special day in church…that she was crying…they had no idea she was crying because her ass hurt."

House nodded, almost smiling.

"Then, there's the day my dad wrecked his bicycle. He said he lost control and hit the curb, went flying off. Later on that night, Uncle Mark confessed that they were riding around, trying to get a peek in Sally O'Hare's bedroom when she changed. Grandma Naomi had to leave her job to come pick him up and take him to the hospital. They said Grandma wouldn't let either of them leave the house without her until my dad's cast was off as punishment."

"Sally O'Hare? She even sounds like the girl all the boys liked."

"Well apparently she wasn't very nice, but she was the first girl in Uncle Mark's class with boobs."

"So nice or not…the boys _liked_ her."

Mike thought for a few moments and then said, "I never really connected the dots about all of the stories until we were driving home from Grandma Naomi's funeral. After she died, I saw my grandfather more times in that week than I ever had. On the way home, I asked Dad where in the hell Grandpa was during all of the stories I'd ever heard. Why did Grandma have to assemble the bikes they got for their birthdays? Why did Grandma drive for all of the day trips, and make all of the drives to the doctor's. Dad answered immediately, 'work.' I don't know if you had a dad, or didn't…I just want you to know…I love my grandfather…but he wasn't there for my Dad either."

Mike coughed, and House's thoughts were redirected to the younger man's immune system. "Might have to put you in a clean room…keep you away from any other nasty little germs that want to hang out in you," House said as he nudged the wheeled tray table over with his foot so Mike could reach his drink.

Once Mike was done coughing, he looked at House, "No clean rooms…please? I'm going to die anyway. I don't want my last days to be in some sci-fi hospital room, talking to people in masks."

House nodded, "Are you that convinced you are going to die?"

Mike looked at him, resignation in his eyes, and ignored House's question in favor of continuing the story. "Since Grandma died, Grandpa sees himself as this…patriarch. I truly believe that _he_ believes…he loves his family. I don't know if it's guilt, if he's reevaluating as he's getting older, or if something happened."

* * *

When Cuddy woke on the sofa just as the sun was rising, she heard Blythe in the kitchen. Cuddy stretched, finding the note left by House, and not at all surprised that he went to work to keep himself busy. Cuddy took a cleansing breath and walked out to the kitchen. The older woman was looking through pictures on the refrigerator and said softly, "I'm sorry for our disagreement. I know what I said was wrong."

Cuddy smoothed out her pajamas and ran her fingers through her hair, buying time under the guise of trying to tidy herself. "The fact that you said it is…extremely disturbing…what bothers me most of all, is that you could even think it."

"I was…on the defensive," Blythe said.

The older woman smiled, stiffly, and pointed at a picture of Jack on the fridge. The boy's picture was the embodiment of sheer joy. Wide grin, hugging Ava around the waist as if he could muster the strength to pick her up. In the photo, Ava was trying to look annoyed, but her attempts were ineffective. "Jack…is so much like Greg was ages ago. So…sensitive. God, he was a sweet little boy. I'm not saying he was the type to cry or whine, because he wasn't…but he was aware of everything around him. He was so…enthusiastic, playful…_alive_. And yet, so hurt by the things around him. Back then, you didn't encourage your boys to talk about how they were feeling, or ask them what was wrong when they were sad. You told them to 'be a man,' and 'toughen up.' He _was_ a little man too. When his father was deployed, he'd try so hard to be the man of the house. He'd lug out garbage for me when he was not much bigger than Jack. He'd dig his fingers into the plastic to try to get a grip and the bags would rip. He tried to mow…those little push mowers, he could barely get the rusted wheels turning…got his pants leg caught…thank god the blades were dull as anything. He was so protective of me, of our home. John…was fiercely proud of that boy when he was small. John bragged about his son non-stop. For years…I think he thought the sun rose and set in that boy. Probably made it hurt all the worse when…the truth came forward. It killed him to think that Greg wouldn't see himself as John House's boy anymore. John was always strict, no doubt about that, but Greg was usually respectful…and very eager to please his dad when he was small. Then, suddenly, it was like Greg wasn't his son, he was a head-strong subordinate to be broken and reformed. The one thing Greg and John truly did have in common…was that neither would easily be broken."

Blythe turned and saw Cuddy's eyes, damp and pink and filled with sorrow. Cuddy could hear in Blythe's voice, in her timbre, the sound of the devastating shift that followed in her family history. Cuddy could see Blythe's memory of those times, watching the destruction of her family around her, the pain of both her husband and son as they battled for power.

"I failed him, god knows I failed him," Blythe said, more emotionally than Cuddy had ever seen the woman say anything. "I failed them both. Little lies upon big lies, and then I couldn't stop the avalanche when everything hit the tipping point."

Blythe tried to gain her composure, clearly uncomfortable with a display of emotion, "When I see Jack, and the way he acts, sometimes it makes me sad…to think of how happy Greg was before everything went wrong. Before we killed that part of Greg."

"You didn't kill it," Cuddy said, "You guys sure tried though. It's sad that you don't see that in him anymore. I actually…kinda feel bad for you. When he's really having fun, when he's…playing…you can see that enthusiasm in his eyes. Don't you ever watch him with the kids? When people are hurt…really hurt…you can see the understanding…the empathy. It's…unfortunate that you don't see it. That's all."

Cuddy heard movement behind her, expecting one of the kids, and finding House. The women had no idea when he began to listen to the conversation. He limped over to Cuddy, his leg heavy, and stopped at her side with a very soft smile. He leaned down and did something he didn't usually do in front of his mother. He kissed Cuddy's cheek.

Of all of the various passionate, intense, amorous encounters House and Cuddy had over the years, that single peck was one of the most meaningful exchanges that had ever occurred between them. Blythe had seen brushes of hands, or House's hand reassuringly on Cuddy's back, small touches, but around his mother, there was a distance in their behavior that their children certainly noticed. Their normal playful flirtation usually dropped to next to nothing on the days of Blythe's visits. "Good morning," he said quietly to Cuddy with a tone of unmistakable affection.

"Morning," she said in a similar manner. "Everything OK with the patient?"

"We started the treatments," House said, walking around the counter, and standing only a few feet from his mother without looking at her.

House sat on one of the stools and leaned his forearms onto the counter, directly facing Cuddy without ever acknowledging Blythe's presence. "Been thinking about this whole…Frank thing."

"Oh?" Cuddy replied.

"It's so idiotic," House began, still focusing entirely on Cuddy. "I think as a kid, when things started getting bad, part of my brain always wondered what life would have been like with someone else. If…some guy who screwed around with my mom suddenly decided that he made mistakes that he wanted to make amends for, and came to find me. Over the years, I thought a lot about this theoretical guy. Should I think he was a great guy…someone who would have been some…baseball game and grilling on Sunday dad? Should I think he was some terrible asshole that abandoned me? I went back and forth on it a million times. Did I like him…did I hate him…?"

Cuddy leaned down on the other side of the counter, mirroring his position and facing him.

"Then Frank showed up," Cuddy offered.

"Then Frank showed up," House concurred. "I honestly thought the guy was long since dead. I never thought he'd show up, asking for a fucking favor. I wanted to feel something…I wanted to let my instincts take over…assess him without thinking. I didn't hate him, or like him. He wasn't a…hero and he wasn't an asshole. He told me how he loved my mom and his hands were tied…and…it wasn't his fault or Mom's…it was the time…the circumstance. Almost like they were innocent bystanders in an impossible situation…but they weren't passive bystanders…nor were they innocent. From what his grandson told me…he was a shitty excuse for a father anyway. I mean…he wasn't abusive…he was pretty much…the same father to his _real _kids that he was to me…absent."

"He left them?" Cuddy asked.

"No…he stayed, he was just always busy. There, but not _there_. Really, what's the good of having a father if they aren't there? Like a…paternal figurehead. Which got me to thinking about my parents. I seem to always want to simplify things by saying, Dad's an asshole, or Mom was clueless, so I could…hate one, love the other…or hate both. I needed to put them in one category or another, so that…something could make sense. The truth about Dad is…he was an intolerable, controlling asshole. He was more interested in my compliance than my well-being. Part of him…had to be truly heartless to do the things he did. I never realized that, until I had my kids. I look at them…at the trust in their eyes…" House swallowed hard for a moment. The look in his eyes was clear, as if even the passing thought of harming his children seemed to cause him pain.

"I can't…connect the thought of hurting them with the reality of actually doing it, and really, I can't handle the thought either," he said, staring at his own wide hand and imagining their smaller selves next to it. "I would rather do…almost anything than have to do that…I couldn't. I don't want to…hurt Jack, make him cry, and then call him a pussy for feeling pain. I don't want to bring Ava back to all of the bullshit we took her from in the first place, to see the look on her face when that trust is broken…do you remember how much you _HATED_ the person that hurt her? Do you remember the burns on her body…the cast…the bruises, and the way she'd cry when you tried to hold her because it hurt?"

Cuddy bobbed her head subtly, her eyes filling with tears easily as she remembered the tiny two year-old who stood in the middle of Kate's living room crying. The night their entire world was turned upside down by the most powerful tiny person they had ever seen. "I remember," Cuddy said, gulping down her feelings.

"I hated the fucker that did that to her."

"Me too"

House nodded. Blythe was standing just behind him, just out of his line of sight, and even though she knew that he knew she was there, she also knew that he hadn't done anything to invite her into the conversation.

"Then, really…_look_ at Dad. He kept me in his home after he was lied to…humiliated…settled for. What man…wants to be a joke to his wife and a phony to his son?"

"It doesn't excuse…" Cuddy began until House interrupted.

"I know. You are right. It doesn't excuse his behavior. At all. I always told myself…what else should he have done? And last night, I realized what he could have done. He could have chosen to be my ally. He could have been honest…he could have said that we may not be biologically intertwined…but we _are _family. But he didn't do that. And I finally realized that I am nothing like John House…because…he didn't do that…but I _would_ have. I would have _proven_ that even though I wasn't the biological father…I was the dad. The first day Ava called me Dad…one of the best days ever. Because…she wasn't forced to…that moniker wasn't prescribed…she could have called me 'Fluffy,' and I would have answered," he said, smiling a bit, because he did adore that child enough to make such a claim plausible. "When she called me Dad…it was because I earned it."

Cuddy smiled, laughing a sad little laugh at the solemnity and beauty and truth that was all compressed into so few words.

"And then there's the saint in this chaos…my mother," House said, still addressing only Cuddy. "So let's give her the benefit of the doubt…let's…see things from her side. She never got to be with the guy she really loved. She was trapped with an illegitimate son and married to a Marine she didn't really want. I told myself for years that she didn't really understand how bad things were. Because, boys wake up with bloodied noses and broken ribs all of the time," he laughed bitterly. "I know that by the time I left for college, I cracked some of my ribs at least three times. You know how many times they took me to the hospital for that?"

Cuddy shook her head.

"None. So when I tried to breathe, and it hurt, or that one time when I had a cold, and coughed repeatedly…there was no Vicodin. There wasn't even any fucking Tylenol. Sometimes, you get so used to pain that you think it's the only way to feel. I can pretend she didn't know…but there was this one day…the night before was bad. Dad was screaming, he was so mad. I'm not going to trudge through the details…but…I really needed stitches… I know, that at one point…" House stopped.

Cuddy could see that he didn't want to say what he was about to say. She knew he still hated to be seen as weak, and he never wanted to be seen as a victim. Cuddy knew so much of what had happened, but there was a detail he'd left out all those years ago when he told her the truth of his upbringing.

"I…uhh…" he began, then placed his fists down on the counter, gently but rhythmically thumping them on the counter. "I know she heard me that night…because we were in my room, Dad and I, and it was right next to their room. He was so pissed he'd lost control at that point and…I practically screamed at him to stop. Since the neighbor asked me about it a few days later, I'm pretty damn certain that my mother heard it from a few feet away. Of course, for my weakness…Dad added on to the punishment."

They could both hear Blythe crying from behind House. They could tell from the sound that she remembered, that regret weighed heavily on her, but neither of them acknowledged her. Cuddy wanted so badly to comfort him, but she knew what he needed. She knew he needed to say the things he needed to say. She pressed her hands farther across the counter top, so her one hand surrounded his. No squeezing, no possession, her fingers just rested over his hand.

"Anyway," he finally said, "in the morning, mom came over and said she thought I was sick, and she was keeping me home. Her expression was one of utter sadness. She tried to pamper me…she made me good food, brought me ice for my side, helped to clean up my face, she attempted to show me compassion. I supposed some people would say it was sweet. But I didn't need a guilt offering the next day. I didn't need cookies or…cola in a tall glass filled with ice…I needed someone to stop what was going on the night before…or the next time…or the time after that. I needed someone to hear me when I was…hurting…when I cried like a weak little fuck alone in my room because…because it fucking hurt. It hurt because he hated me…and it hurt because my body hurt…and it hurt because she didn't take the time to _hear._ That day…when she was trying to be so sweet and motherly…proved that she knew exactly what was going on. Can you imagine sitting by idly while you hear your own son being beaten? Can you imagine hearing those thuds and doing nothing to stop it?"

Blythe's shaky breath could easily be heard, and House said into the air, "Sucks to be invisible, doesn't it, Mom? It sucks to hurt and have people refuse to acknowledge your pain…to act like you don't even exist when it's convenient for them."

House wanted to leave his mother crying behind him, to really make her feel that loneliness, and that sorrow. But for all of the accusations of sociopathic behavior and heartlessness, the truth was, he couldn't do it. He pulled out the stool next to him and gestured for Blythe to take it. When she hugged him, he returned the gesture. It was not the easy gesture that he bestowed on his children and his wife, or the ones he gave to Kate on rare occasions when he pretended to loathe the action, but didn't really mind all that much.

He let go of his mother's shoulder after a few moments and turned back to Cuddy. The fact that he was ignoring his mom made a convenient point, but that wasn't the reason behind his behavior. He couldn't have had that conversation with anyone other than his wife. Cuddy was the only one he felt safe enough with to discuss such complicated and painful feelings. But he needed his mother to know. He treated her like an eavesdropper, an accidental participant in a conversation that wasn't for her. He had labored for days on how to discuss the complicated thoughts in his head with his mother, because she needed to know the pain that she'd caused if they were ever to move ahead, and all he kept realizing was, he didn't know if he was capable of having such a conversation with her.

"All these people," House said to Cuddy, "All three of them fucked up. Dad…John. He's the easiest to point fingers at. He was an abusive fucker that made himself less a man every time he beat a child. Frank could have tried, he could have been there to help me and mom out, but he wasn't. He was more than willing to let a kid out there when he had no clue what was going on…no clue if one of his own was safe. Then, there's Mom, who sat by and did nothing every single time it happened."

House suddenly seemed a little bit lighter, as he took Cuddy's hand in his and continued, "I'm a huge fuckup. I was on drugs for way too much of my adult life, was locked up, really hurt the woman I loved...I did tons of stupid stuff, and strangely, admitting the shit that I did wrong is not that difficult for me. It was always easier to hate myself, because…for most of my life, who fucking loved me? I really thought I deserved it. Now…it's not so easy to hate myself. There was a simplicity in that…in the totality of that. Now…I have people who love me…meaning they _actually_ _love_ me. So I can't just…call myself a useless asshole who doesn't deserve love. If I say that…it would hurt you and Ava and Jack…I can't just…disregard your feelings as irrelevant. You guys have proven that I'm not…_unlovable_. I had the three people who were supposed to take care of me…my _parents_. They left me so fucked I hated myself. Then I found the people who actually loved me…picked them up along the way. A woman so broken after a life of loneliness and the loss of a child…a little girl whose body and spirit were battered…and a little boy…who wants nothing more than to enjoy life, and give and receive pieces of joy and love. And…yea…maybe we're weird…" House said, smiling at Cuddy, and seeing her smile through her own tears in return.

"Maybe a little," she answered.

"Our daughter reads the PDR. That…is not normal. However, I might start calling her when I need to check on possible drug interactions for patients. Jack…he really knows what's going on…he really knows what people are feeling, and…he _feels_ their pain. Plus he's happy…that's just weird. You and I... I think you and I…might be a little obsessed with each other. I don't think you're supposed to be this hooked on someone after knowing them this long. The four of us…can have a conversation without ever saying a thing."

"I like our weirdness," she answered.

"I…do too. People see us, and they see the smart but slightly creepy kids, and the doctors…the hot one and the one with the limp…who ran away from civilization because it sucks. They see any of my _parents_ and they see normal people. Funny thing is, we're better than them…because we'd never turn our backs on our kids, or intentionally cause them pain and we'd never stand there and let someone in our family get hurt without doing everything we could to stop it."

"So," Blythe finally said from the side, reminding the couple that she was still there, "Are you…telling me I have no place in your lives?"

"I just said I'm _not_ like you…I won't stand by and ignore you when you're hurt," House said with calm compassion.

"I don't know what I can do to change things."

"You can't. No matter what you say, it doesn't change what happened. No matter how much you want it to…what happened…happened."

"So what do I do?"

"Don't question how we choose to raise our kids…ever. Your actions have nullified any right to criticize or comment on how Cuddy and I choose to do this parenting thing." House started to walk away and then paused, "And don't ever…ever…say I'm like my dad. My actions speak for me…just like yours spoke for you."

Blythe practically dove into her son. It was a moment where she dropped the formality and dignity she almost always carried herself with, dragging him into her arms. She was crying, and he knew, finally, that she knew. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered softly.

"I know, Mom," he answered.

"I love you, I do love you…I wish things could have been so different…I wished I would have done things so much differently," Blythe whispered next.

House took a moment, his eyes meeting Cuddy's over his mother's shoulder. "I know," he answered, finally sounding as if he believed her.

A moment later Ava came into the room with Jack, and Jack ran into the center of the hug between his father and grandmother. House could tell, Jack was relieved that there was an accord between the adults. "Nana's taking us to a movie today!" Jack said, looking up at his dad.

"Is she?" House asked as he pulled back from his mother.

He saw Blythe's expression, almost pleading, still concerned that he may expel her from his life. "If that's OK…" Blythe said.

"Sure," House said easily, looking down at the excited face of Jack and over at a clearly pleased Ava.

"Thank you," Blythe answered.

"I need Cuddy at work for a few hours."

Cuddy was talking to Ava along the far side of the kitchen, and did a near double-take at House. She had no intention of going into work that day, after the stress of recent days, she was looking forward to a day off. "OK," she commented, patting Ava's shoulder and saying, "Then I want to get in early and get the work done, so we can have some time to relax."

Cuddy went up to their room, showering as quickly as possible, and powering through her routine so she could get in to the office. She never managed to master casually approaching work. She was working, or she wasn't, so since she wasn't teaching a class or seeing patients, she grabbed her usual professional attire from the closet and began dressing. Standing in front of the mirror, House appeared from behind her and she jumped just a bit.

"Are you OK?" she asked with deep concern. "This has been so much for you to…"

"Are you kidding?" he asked lightly.

She spun around and looked at his face. He looked victorious, he looked relieved. "You _are _OK."

"I am," he said, his lips crashing happily onto hers, his hands cradling her hips.

House was resilient, he'd always been resilient, and standing in the bathroom after the discussion in front of his mom, when it seemed she finally understood, he felt quite free. He was no longer held captive by that emotional prison, his anger with his mom, his sense of feeling unloved and unlovable. "You…" House said in a very accusatory voice, "Are so completely perfect for me…today…last night…you were…you are…perfect. It should really irritate me…your perfection."

Cuddy laughed, "You're completely disconnected with reality."

"Oh no, I'm completely connected."

"It's so good to see you looking this way."

He smiled, "Yea. So, why are you getting all dressed up?"

"You said you need me to work."

"No, I said I need you _at_ work," he said with a wink. "I feel good, you…feel really good," he said lasciviously, "you look good…"

"Much better than work."

"So much better than work. I have plans for all of us this evening…today…it's you and me…and _work._"

* * *

_A/N2-I promise…love and fun for the next chapter! Have a great weekend._


	11. Running Away

_A/N-Thanks to all of you who have been reading, and all of those who have reviewed since the last chapter: Jane Q. Doe, ammeboss, Jess, LapizSilkwood, MsStevieCooper, Boo's House, partypantscuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, IHeartHouseCuddy, TheHouseWitch, HuddyForever, OldSFfan, jkarr, byte size, hfspc, Bounce, IWuvHouse, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl21, justlobe, housebound, jaybe61, ClareBear14, KiwiClare, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, Bully, LoveMyHouse, Josam, Hammy (Guest), HilsonFTW, limptulip, Hspirito, LiaHuddy, BJAllen815 and aussiefan12. Thanks also to those of you've who've contacted me via other outlets, your thoughts and support were appreciated. _

_I was a little nervous about the last chapter, so I was really excited to see it worked for many of you. I've received a few questions about the whereabouts of other characters from the show. The gang is still heading back to the States, some characters will show up to varying degrees, but the focus will continue to be on House, Cuddy and family. That's just how I like to write it. _

_*As promised…less serious chapter. Hope you enjoy. This chapter includes adult content._

* * *

"Why are we going here?" Cuddy asked as they walked to the Center.

"Very important things to do!" House said enthusiastically.

"Are you trying to lower my defenses, get me to agree to something ridiculous or dangerous…maybe something for your patient?"

"Nope"

"But if they see me walk in…" Cuddy began.

"They will not see you, I have it all planned out."

"OK," she said, a little tensely.

"You followed me to start a new life overseas, but you're having trouble trusting me enough to follow me to work?"

Cuddy smirked, "Fine, you are right, it's completely screwed up. It's just…this last week has been crazy. I wouldn't mind hiding at home in our room. Coming to work was not what I had in mind…I wanted somewhere peaceful…quiet…"

"That is exactly what I thought you'd say."

House led her around the back part of the building toward the yoga studio. "Gonna get our _om_ on?" Cuddy asked playfully.

"In a way"

He opened the doors to the studio with his ID, and they stepped inside. The studio instantly reminded Cuddy of relaxation. The smell, the air, the décor, the very atmosphere, was soothing.

* * *

_**-4 months after the clinic opened-**_

_Kate's door burst open, and Cuddy was the first one there, slapping a case file on Kate's desk. They could hear House yelling from outside of the office, "We need to do a biopsy."_

"_No," Cuddy said, turning toward the door where he was entering, "We need to do a scan."_

_When House reached Kate's desk, he said calmly, "Need a tiebreaker. She hasn't been a doctor for so long she doesn't know what she's talking about anyway."_

"_If I'm not a doctor, why did you ask for my opinion in the first place?" Cuddy retorted._

"_Because I thought you were smart enough to know the right answer and confirm what I already know."_

"_If you're so convinced it's the right answer, confirmation from me should be unnecessary."_

"_It's your job to make sure I don't take unnecessary risks."_

_Cuddy scoffed and glared, stepping back and then forward again, right in House's face. "You couldn't prevent yourself from doing something risky for the two minutes it would take me to pee?"_

"_You had a stall. I wasn't stopping you."_

"_It was two minutes, House. A small modicum of privacy and quiet…you couldn't give me one-thirtieth of an hour."_

"_You followed her into the bathroom to get a consult?" Kate asked._

"_Are you listening? She had a stall. I saw her walk past my office, I figured I'd ask," House said, defending himself. "I think over the years she's ambushed me in the bathroom plenty of times. She was getting a reputation back at Plainsboro."_

"_I think for future reference, it's best to let her pee in peace. Seriously, man, that's just…yea, that's too much," Kate said._

_Cuddy didn't look victorious, she looked overwhelmed. _

"_I don't know why you're being so sensitive about this," House said to Cuddy. "You should be happy I still value your opinion."_

_Cuddy answered, "And should I be happy you valued my opinion when you interrupted my bath…three times last night?"_

"_A slight exaggeration," House shrugged._

"_In what way…is it an exaggeration?"_

"_Only one visit was to ask your opinion. The other two times were because I needed your help."_

_Cuddy put a hand on her hip and one on her forehead, "Is that really your defense?"_

"_I didn't know the juice was that well hidden," he replied.  
_

"_In the fridge? Where it always is?"_

"_Behind…stuff."_

"_And then to ask me for the phone number for takeout. Because I would, while sitting in the tub, be the best resource for this?"_

"_First off," Kate interjected. "Don't follow her into the bathroom for work-related things. Does she take your whiteboard? Steal your tennis balls? Everyone has their limits."_

"_Fine," he agreed._

"_Second of all," Kate continued, "You are both gigantic idiots. You guys thought you were going to agree on the handling of every patient, every time…when you have completely different strategies for approaching medicine?"_

"_We know we don't always agree. Which is why we need a tiebreaker. Check the file," House ordered Kate, "You'll see it's fucking obvious to anyone with a brain that…"_

"_No…nope," Kate shouted, growing angrier. "I'm not going to do this. You guys need a committee or something. Because you always want me to be the tiebreaker. Then, I get dragged into a fight, then whoever I disagreed with is pissed at me, and I'm pissed off from the fight. The two of you go off and have make up sex in one of the places that you don't think I know about, and I'm sitting here, still pissed. And even though you seem to no longer be angry at each other, whoever I voted against seems to stay angry at me, so, no, I won't be designated asshole. I'll help you decide, but I won't be the solo tiebreaker."_

"_Could you do the scan first, please?" Cuddy asked House directly. "We can look over it together. If it's at all unclear or suspicious, you could do the biopsy right away."_

"_Yea, I guess," House said._

"_Cool," Cuddy answered. "I'll go make sure the schedule's cleared for your patient. We can get them in immediately."_

_Cuddy smiled and walked out. _

"_You depend on her to prevent you from doing something stupid at home too. And that's OK, as the mom, let's face it, that's part of what moms everywhere have been doing since the dawn of time: trying to prevent their families from destroying themselves, but everyone needs a break," Kate said.  
_

_House rolled his eyes, "Cuddy's pretty tough. She's not some…delicate flower that needs…"_

"_No," Kate interrupted, "And neither are you."_

"_Me?"_

"_Yea. I'll speak to you in your mother tongue." House was about to say something when Kate continued, "And by mother tongue, I mean metaphor."_

"_Chicken"_

"_You play tag with Jack. I've seen you do it. And you bust your ass to play the game with him. You do it…because you love him, and you want him to have fun. So, really you want to do it. It makes both of you happy. But, try as you might, after about ten minutes of nonstop, constant strain and tension on your leg, you can't do it anymore. No matter how much you love Jack, and how much your heart is one-hundred percent invested in playing the game with him…your body eventually reaches the point beyond protest and you have to stop. So what do you do?"_

"_Take a break"_

"_Right, you rub your leg, stretch your shoulder where it gets jarred from using your the cane. Just five minutes, and then, usually, you get up and do it again at least one or two more times, but you couldn't continue if you didn't get that little pause from the demand. A pause just long enough to be ready to throw yourself into it again. "_

_House nodded, "Fine…she needs a break."_

"_Just a few minutes. Don't follow her into the bathroom for a medical opinion. Maybe give her a safe zone. Consider giving her a certain place or time when she knows she has complete peace unless there's an emergency. Let her…recharge her mom muscle so she can get up and play again."_

* * *

They went into the meditation room attached to the yoga studio. Cuddy's own private little world. House and the kids agreed to leave her alone completely when she needed time in the meditation room. Cuddy stood by the door, "Why are we in here?" she asked with a smirk.

"Because today, I need a quiet place to hide too, just for a few minutes. Why…are you not willing to share your private little sanctuary with me?"

"Of course I am, but you remember you can't ask me for any favors while I'm in here."

House smirked, "You can ask me for favors, I'm OK with that."

She sat down on the floor cross-legged and took a deep breath. House was only in the room once before when she first set it up, and she took him back to see what she had done with the space. "Love what you've done with the place!" he said, lowering himself onto a large bolster pillow on the floor

"So what are you really doing in here?" Cuddy asked.

"Hiding. If it works for you, maybe it will work for me."

"Rather ironic, isn't it? That we left the country, moved hundreds of miles from home to escape…and now, in _paradise_, we've resorted to hiding in what is essentially a comfy walk-in closet?"

"I do like it in here," he replied, ignoring her comment.

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Never," he said, nuzzling against her neck, "Does it _feel _like I'm ignoring you?"

"I mean the question?" she sighed happily.

"I'm here with pure intentions," he said, flopping backward. "Because, you are right, we have tried to run away from everything, and it keeps following us, so I'm going to try meditation."

"So you aren't here, looking for uninterrupted sex?" she said with a faint giggle.

"Of course not, I'm practicing my breathing."

"Right," she said as she listened to him take a lungful of oxygen and hold it.

"You aren't breathing. Holding your breath is not the same thing."

"What?" he said, astounded, "I won't hold your breasts no matter how much you beg."

She raised an eyebrow, "Witty. Yes, I'm sure I'd have to beg."

"I don't want to ruin this place for you," he said, putting his head back down onto the oversized pillow.

"This place is about relaxation…relieving tension…privacy…rejuvenation," she said as she scooted next to his side. "I can help you do all of that…and more. I'm an expert."

She placed a hand on his stomach, instructing him on ways to breathe, taking deep enough breaths to meet her hand with his stomach when he filled his body with air. He opened his eyes and watched with gentle approval as her hand brushed with feather-light strokes along his lower stomach, eventually bringing her other hand up to his torso and pushing his tee shirt upward. She smiled with a flirty, loving look in her eye, and then he saw it, that glimmer of sadness when her hands reached his ribs and she remembered everything he had said earlier, his memories of pain, loneliness and abuse. He covered her hands with his, holding them still. "Stop," he said firmly, but not angrily. "I'm letting it go. You need to too."

"I'm not…"

"Really, stop. Everything is OK," he interrupted, his thumbs running along the lengths of both of her hands. "It's time to stop this shit from invading our lives. I don't know why, but…it seems harder for you to let go of it than me. I'm ready…and I need you to be ready too."

She looked at the honesty in his eyes, and leaned down to kiss along his cheek, slowly moving to his lips and kissing him with desire masked in sweetness. "I know," she said when she backed away. "I'm trying."

"You make me feel good. The good things that have come from…this…from us…far outweigh anything that happened years ago. Really."

He pulled her hands up to his shoulders, pressing her body so she was lying against him, not straddling him, but resting on his body. He started to rub along her sides, and she mirrored the gesture as her leg slid higher along his. He found the antithesis of pain in her. Often he would joke about healing through sex, through orgasms, but there was so much more to the healing they brought each other. There was complete trust, in so many ways, so different from everything they came from, where suspicion, games, and even treachery dictated their interactions. They had found the one safe place to rest their backs against, so they could deal with the outside world.

They were touching, massaging, mutually trying to end pain, and as the pain abated, as he realized, he was free from the weights that held him down, that he had finally, in some way, confronted those who had hurt him most, he felt lighter. She could feel the freedom, the lightness in him, and touches turned more to tickles and play, and they found each other, smiling through their kisses. She tugged at his tee shirt, where it was still attached to him, and he heard the seams creak. There was a fury, a frenzy in the speed with which they needed to see each other naked, to feel unencumbered, unrestrained touch. He nipped at her neck and found her giggling and sighing. He found himself already aroused at their playful tease, and almost pained when his fingers slid her thighs farther apart and he watched her become exposed in front of him. He leaned her against the large bolster, so she was seated partially upright, he wanted her to see everything he was doing. She watched his finger move along her slit, watched him move his fingers steadily forward, finding her as wet as he was hard, as desperately filled with anticipation as he was. Without touching her clit, his fingers pressed into her, and he saw how she reacted with a sense of immediate, although partial, relief. His other hand moved to rest on her pubic bone, his fingers spread across the lowest part of her tummy as his thumb circled and pulsed at her clit.

Watching him was both torture and pleasure, as she enjoyed the sensations, but still felt almost embarrassed at the exposure, at the vulnerability. He had tormented her as long as he could, bringing her painfully close to orgasm repeatedly, "Breathe deeply, just relax," he said lowly, the sound of his voice sending her dangerously closer to release.

His hands stilled when he felt her begin to pulse more rhythmically, and she moved her hands to cover his own. She could feel the way he was moving beneath her fingers. She wasn't directing the touches, although her participation, her desire to feel what he was doing in yet another way, was even more arousing to him. He watched the way her hands moved over his, the way her hands and fingers moved collaboratively with his, the way her body quivered and rose and fell with his movements, and he saw her complete and total surrender to the feelings that were around her. There was no other thought in her head, but him and her, and the amazing feelings that were produced by the ways their bodies touched. Just when she was nearing orgasm again, she could tell, he was finally going to allow her release and she stilled his hands, her grip firm, and her eyes were almost wild.

He could see that even she couldn't really comprehend the fact that she had stopped it. Her breath was wild and her voice quivering, yet firm and certain, a combination he often thought only she had mastered, "Together, I wanna finish together."

He looked almost offended, and she knew, for him, a large part of his enjoyment of the act was the fact that he could play such an effective part in bringing her as much relief and pleasure as anyone else in the world. She pulled him toward her, meeting him in a searing kiss that immediately washed away any notions of offense that he felt. She pulled him up to her, winding her legs around him in a way that seemed to be many things: yogic, spiritual, loving, and profoundly erotic. She was guiding him into her before he was even really expecting it, always enjoying how much she owned her love of sex. How much she unashamedly enjoyed their trysts, their sex, and their climaxes.

He groaned when he pushed into her with one long quick thrust, their bodies almost completely melting into each other. He could see her trying to focus on something else, trying not to come the second he was inside her, because he could tell she almost did.

He enjoyed the reversal in roles, she was the one trying to stave off her climax, waiting for him to catch up. It was strange that, to his recollection, he never remembered a scenario like this between them, a time when she refused to finish, except with him. He was both excited and amused, enjoying the fact that being with him made it difficult for her not to orgasm, but the look of desire on her face was overwhelming, as was the very idea of what she was trying to do. He quickly released his mind, not wanting to torment her any longer than necessary, and allowed his body to give in to the feelings.

His mind drifted, for only a second, to the love that she had for him, so deep that his pain seemed to hurt her as much or even more than it hurt him. He felt her start to fall, in spite of all of her efforts, and her aroused state, the extreme tightness, yet the ease with which they slipped against each other, with just enough friction and tension to make their encounter the same amazing, hot, best sex ever encounter they almost took for granted. He came loudly, swept in emotion and passion and orgasm while his fingers dug into her hips, and her fingers dug into his shoulder and side. Her legs were hooked so tightly around him that he couldn't even move anymore. They rolled onto their sides, shaky from release, bodies feeble and exhausted, still united.

She seemed to drift into sleep for a moment, and when she woke, that joy, that freedom from past pain, seemed to be breathable in the air. "Now I'm going to get turned on every time I'm in here."

"Sorry," he said disingenuously.

"I can tell," she answered dryly.

"I'll just have to come in here with you."

"OK," she shrugged.

"Seriously?"

"Sure. As long as you're here for fun…and not asking me for an opinion, or a favor, or discussing anything about work or family…or really anything stressful."

"Is this room for meditation, sex, or denial?"

She giggled, "I guess all of the above."

"Love this room."

After they had relaxed for a while, House said, "Let's go shopping."

"Right," Cuddy said with a throaty laugh.

"I'm serious."

"I'm taking you for an MRI," she said as she stood, naked, and reached out her hand to help him up.

"Naked?" he said approvingly.

"No. I'm getting dressed, then I'm taking you for an MRI."

"Why?"

"Why do you want to go shopping?"

"For something cool. Two something cools. I've appreciated _you_ already today. You think you are the only one who deserves some appreciation?"

She smiled, "What are we buying?"

"Everyone needs a space…or a thing…that's just for them. Something…personal. Kids are people too," he said in an exaggerated voice of advocacy.

"Fine," she agreed. "You know what you're getting them?"

"What _we're_ getting them. And yes. Get dressed, you can't sit around, frittering the day away with your so called _meditation_."


	12. Experts

_A/N-Thanks so much to all of the readers, and the reviewers since the last chapter was posted: KiwiClare, partypantscuddy, Josam, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, LapizSilkwood, jaybe61, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, OldSFfan, dmarchl21, Suzieqlondon, jkarr, Hspirito, 6cbrilhante, IWuvHouse, CaptainK8, BJAllen815, MsStevieCooper, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, Jane Q. Doe, ClareBear14, and Redsox 15.  
_

_For reference, the flashback in this chapter will need the "Way-back Machine"...we're going back to roughly Season 4.  
_

* * *

The couple stopped in Mike's room before leaving on the quest that House told Cuddy nothing about, except that they were getting something for their kids. Although the treatment was already taking a substantial toll on Mike, he was quick to offer a smile and his appreciation. After they knew Mike was handling the treatment as well as could be expected, House and Cuddy headed for the front door. On the way, they were first stopped by Frank.

"Look, Greg, we should talk about some stuff," Frank said. "Your mom and I talked about a great many things during dinner last night."

"No time today, busy," House announced.

"It'll just take a few minutes," Frank insisted.

"I've waited a lifetime to hear back from you…you can wait a day," House said with a quick smile before placing a determined hand on Cuddy's back and directing her toward the door without hesitation.

Frank seemed surprised, and Cuddy thought it was strange that Frank should think that, by mere genetics alone, he should be a priority to the son he abandoned. As they left Frank behind, it was almost as if there was a gauntlet to be cleared between them and the door out of the building. In front of them, Celia's face lit up as she grabbed papers and walked toward House. Cuddy's assistant saw them, and waved to get Cuddy's attention. Finally the med student, Parker, who could often be found trying to get Kate's attention, brushed against House's arm, "Hi, Doctor House, I need a private consult," she flirtatiously requested.

House sneered at the student who was clearly trying to get him in trouble, and he supposed that if there was any less trust between he and Cuddy, he probably would have been in plenty of trouble, or at least under a lot of suspicion. Cuddy said, loudly, so all of the potential roadblocks between their location and the outdoors could easily hear, "Does anyone have anything really, really important?"

Everyone still looked as if they were intent on interacting with the fleeing doctors. House shook his head and whispered, "You have to be specific, everyone thinks whatever they want to talk about is really, really important." He added loudly, "Is anyone going to die within the next twenty-four hours without our intervention?"

All of those waiting to talk to House or Cuddy glanced away.

"Does anyone have a message for us from home?" Cuddy asked. "Or is there something that will cause the Center to be shut down if we don't take care of it within the next forty-eight hours?"

The waiting group all stared blankly. Cuddy nodded, "We'll be in tomorrow, and available."

They walked past the group, and as they cleared the door and got into the waiting car, Cuddy said, "Parker, she can't seem to function without you checking her out. Maybe you should just…give her an approving nod so she can move on with her life."

"You're trying to make me check her out?" he said with playful surprise.

"I'm not trying to make you. I think it's sort of funny how desperately she needs validation."

"I'm not like you," House teased, "Spending my days hiring people to leer at and ogle. Like your own dating service…a man trap."

"Is that what I did?" she chuckled.

"Oh yea. I know that's why you hired me. And look at Chase. He's was too pretty to pass up. I'm glad you decided you preferred manliness to boyishness."

"House…" Cuddy said with a generous pause, "_You_ hired Chase."

House's eyes darted for a moment. "Yea. I guess I did," he said. After a moment of thought, he tried to regain his advantage in the argument, "But probably because you manipulated me into doing it!"

"I am …good," she said through a smirk. "But…not _that_ good. It seems the evidence proves that you hired Chase for his boyish good looks."

"I was testing your love for me. Seeing if you could be tempted away by hair and an accent."

"We weren't dating then," she said with levity.

"No, but you were still in love with me," he accused with truth seeking intensity.

She bit her lip and looked away, finally saying softly, "I think we're pretty committed at this point. Pretty sure we've both proven that. So it doesn't really matter."

"But you _were _in love with me…right?" he asked, flirting.

"How could I not be?" she teased a bit sarcastically, but smiled too.

She was blushing as she tried to play it cool, and he chuckled, "How do I still fluster you?"

"You just…do," she responded shyly. "Where are we going?" she asked, reestablishing her cool.

"Bayley Observatory."

"We are going stargazing?"

"Seems bright right now," he countered.

"So why are we going there?"

"Ava's present. I've been thinking about this a lot."

"I figured you were getting her a guitar or something…an escape…something of her own."

"A guitar would be cool, but…I want her to have her own thing. She's been really into constellations. Finding new celestial bodies, stuff like that."

"Astronomy?"

"Lots to learn there. Tons of things still undiscovered. Definitely one hell of an escape. It would be something all her own. If she doesn't like it, she can do something else. She needs a hobby…something to relax with."

* * *

_**-Fall 2007-Cuddy's Residence near PPTH in New Jersey-**_

"_Why aren't you answering your phone?" House asked, startling Cuddy._

_She dropped her head down onto her arm as it rested on one of the rungs of the ladder she was standing on. "I'm on vacation this week, House. All week. It's Tuesday. You couldn't survive two full days without me?"_

_House was staring at her back, the curve of her ass, hidden just a little more than usual by what looked like men's jeans. "Whose pants are those," he said, ignoring her question._

"_What?" she asked with surprise as she lifted one hand to continue cleaning leaves out of the gutters on her home._

"_The pants you are wearing…right now…they aren't yours. Whose are they?"_

"_You're an idiot," she said as she got down off of the ladder and faced him._

_She was standing a foot away from him, staring up. She seemed so much shorter in her sneakers. He thought he felt himself flush for a second as his mind processed how strangely attractive she looked in a previously paint-stained sweatshirt and over-sized jeans, sweating slightly at her temples with her hair tightly pulled back._

"_Whose pants are they?" he insisted._

"_Why are you here?" Cuddy said as she pulled thick latex gardening gloves off of her hands.  
_

"_You suddenly into dating midgets?"_

"_No"_

"_I thought you were attracted to taller guys?" he said, moving closer to her and smiling down with the tiniest piece of flirtation that always left her wondering if he was flirting with her at all._

_She couldn't ignore the pulse of excitement that flooded her body, and then she cleared her throat, "I am not dating a midget, not that height would matter to me."_

"_It matters to you," he said, without ever removing his gaze._

_She shook her head, "Why are you here?" she asked, punctuating each word._

"_I need your medical opinion," he said, looking to the spot where her neck and part of her shoulder were exposed, and making her feel entirely naked by noticing that small piece of visible skin._

"_On what?" she asked shakily. _

_House leaned down ever so slightly, "Whose pants are those?"_

_She smirked and shook her head, "They could belong to a man I was dating…or maybe the guy who's in my bed right now."_

"_If he was in your bed, you'd be devouring him. You go way too long between men to have a willing man upstairs in your bed while you are outside, cleaning your gutters."_

"_I. Do not. Have trouble finding dates."_

"_I didn't say that. Finding them isn't the problem. Maybe…there is a guy in your bed, but your expectations were raised by a studly med student years ago, and all other men leave you feeling so unfulfilled that you don't even want to bother trying."_

_She gave him a warning look, but her blush was unmistakable. As much as he wanted to deny it, so was his. Her voice slowly gained certainty. "These pants could belong to my boyfriend, or they could belong to my friend's fourteen year-old son…and maybe she bought them for him, and they didn't fit…and I kept them for jobs like this one…just a thought."_

"_Does he know you are wearing his pants? If time travel was possible…you could visit teenaged me…I'd let you in my pants too."_

"_That…" she said, trying her best not to chuckle, "Is completely disgusting."_

"_You could wait until I was legal. Eighteen year-old House could have used a better wakeup call than the one he got. I don't actually…remember how I woke up…but I'm sure you could do better."_

_She shook her head, he could see the look that said, 'You are unbelievable.'_

"_Now that we've established that I'm wearing a friend's son's hand-me-downs…WHY are you here?" she asked._

"_I need you to pretend you're a doctor for ten minutes."_

"_Because in that entire hospital, there are no other doctors with opinions."_

"_Wilson's a little mad at me…I won't get into specifics…"_

_Cuddy raised a warning look, "What did you do?"_

"_Nothing, it's…let's just give him some…cooling off time. Besides, you're the boss…I need someone who can think like a doctor and like a boss. I need…you."_

_She shivered as the breeze picked up, and he wondered if her reaction was from the air, or the way he said that he needed her. The sun was setting behind House, the fall air chilly, and her sweatshirt was damp from cleaning the gutters, making her feel chillier than necessary. "Fine," she said, "Come on in."_

_He followed her through the back door into her kitchen, watching her every movement intently. He closed the door behind him. "Why are you cleaning your own gutters. Can't you pay someone to do that."_

"_I can," she said. "I took the week off, and wanted to do some things around here myself. Sometimes it feels good to take care of your own home for a change. It's certainly more relaxing than working at the hospital." She paused while she took a drink from a water bottle, and then said, "So, what do you want me to look at?" _

_She quickly pulled the wet sweatshirt off, leaving a small, form-fitting tee shirt underneath. She didn't stop to think when she popped open the jeans she was wearing, and pulled the damp pants off too. Beneath them were tighter cotton pants, clearly she layered to stay warm, but seeing Cuddy so freely stripping right in front of him left House standing there with his mouth slightly opened, even if she still had on a full outfit underneath her damp clothes. _

"_I…" House finally seemed a little scattered, and Cuddy tried to suppress the feeling of satisfaction that she had at his reaction to her very unchoreographed removal of clothing._

_Then she felt a little uncomfortable. "I'll go change," she said, feeling a little guilty._

"_No," he almost blurted out, "You're fine."_

"_I left my phone out there," she said, pulling her damp sweatshirt back on and jogging out to the ladder in her yard. _

_House found a few bottles of wine sitting out on the counter, and wondered why they were there. He was opening one when Cuddy walked back into the kitchen._

"_You had your phone…but you didn't answer when I called?" he accused.  
_

"_I can't believe you opened that," she said, pointing at the bottle of wine and almost laughing.  
_

_She walked over, and he thought she was going to take the bottle away from him. She did remove it from his hand, looked at the label to see which of the bottles he opened, and placed it back in his grasp. "I'm bored," she commented matter-of-factly. "We'll have one glass. You can grab something to eat from the fridge, I'll look at whatever you need me to look at, then you go back to work."_

_She started toward her room and then said, "You can't be drinking on the clock, nevermind."_

"_One glass"_

"_It's wrong if I'm your boss and I'm giving it to you," she said, walking back toward him._

"_I'm not going back in tonight. I'm going back tomorrow. You aren't really my boss when you are on vacation."_

"_But you needed my opinion tonight?"_

"_Yes, so that I can get up bright and early and be ready to treat...or I can have my team start treating tonight, unless you're inviting them over too."_

_Cuddy smirked, "Are you trying to pull something? Is this…some sort of prank?"_

"_Not at all," he said with a tiny smile that seemed honest. _

"_OK," she replied, turning around to leave the kitchen. Her wet shoes slipped on the linoleum floor and she landed on the ground. "Ouch," she said, both embarrassed and giggling. _

_House had a near smile on his face when he reached a hand out to help her up. She looked confused, her brow furrowed for a moment before she sheepishly reached up. His hand felt warm and welcoming and very strange against her skin. _

_When Cuddy returned, she had warmer clothes on, a cozy looking hoodie and jeans. House was almost irritated by how attractive she looked in such ordinary clothes. He found plenty of food in her fridge, "You were planning a party?" he asked. "The wine…the appetizer-y food…"_

"_My sister was supposed to come over, and one of our friends…it didn't work out."_

_House furrowed his brow, "They stood you up?"_

"_Friend is sick, sister is tired."_

"_Good thing I'm here then."_

"_One drink, then you go," she insisted._

_One drink wasn't one drink. One drink led to the eventual opening of another bottle of wine, and more snacking, and surprisingly easy conversation._

"_I like non-working Cuddy," House said._

"_She gets along well with non-scheming House," Cuddy countered with a smile._

"_You always think I'm scheming."_

"_Because you usually are. I know that case file is from a case you did four months ago."_

_House looked like he was going to argue, but decided against it._

"_Why did you come?" Cuddy asked as she stretched her legs and rested her feet on the coffee table._

_House sat back in the corner of the sofa. "Why not?"_

"_I can never tell if you like me or hate me," she said, her filters loosened by the alcohol.  
_

_House looked at her, his face blank. "Does it have to be one of those two options?"_

"_I dunno. Sometimes…I think you like me…or at least you think I'm not too bad. And…other times…you hate me."_

"_I don't hate you. Sometimes, I do like you, sometimes not so much."_

_She nodded. "Why don't you trust me?"_

_House looked as if he'd been hit. "I do. I trust you."_

"_You don't act like it."_

"_Yes…I do."_

"_No…you don't."_

_House looked baffled, so did Cuddy. "You don't trust me!" he answered._

"_I don't…and yet I do. Some things, I trust you with completely. Secrets. Things that are…really personal," she looked at him, the meaning understood between them. "Some things, I can't trust you. Sometimes you have ulterior motives…plans…games… "_

_House was about to protest when she added, "Like tonight. You lied about why you came here…you still won't tell me."_

_House looked away, and she thought he was completely gone from the conversation. "I was curious about what you were doing. Wondered if…maybe there was a guy…or a secret plan," he said quietly._

"_You could have asked."_

"_You would have lied__…_or at least deflected."

"_True," she sighed. "I want you to trust me."_

"_I do!" he insisted, looking frustrated._

"_I mean…overall. Why can't we…be like this…all of the time?"_

"_First off, you're uptight. You need to learn to relax. Get a hobby. Have fun. You never have fun. You seem__…_offended by the prospect of fun being involved."

"_Maybe I could relax if I didn't have to always watch my back. Who has my back?" _

"_Who has mine?" he countered._

"_Your team. Wilson. Me."_

_House scoffed and she added, "You know, you turn your whole team against me. Make a joke out of me. Spread rumors."_

"_That's not…real…that's just..."  
_

"_It is to me," she interrupted.  
_

"_When things really go wrong…you know you can come to me. When there's a secret you can't trust anyone else with…you can come to me," House said somberly, boring holes through the table with his eyes._

_Little did she realize that years later, when she would be a grieving mother, when she had no one else in the world, she would trust him with everything she had._

"_House…the same is true for you. I am the one you can trust. Someday…you'll see that we could probably be a great team if we actually worked together._

_Little did he realize that one day, she would give him the strength to face his abusers, to let his guard down, that he could trust her with everything._

"_I better get going. It's late," he said, looking down at his wrist._

"_OK," she said. "You've had a lot to drink…you could crash here."_

"_Right," he said with disbelief._

"_I have a guest room…and a sofa…"_

_House looked at her, her breath hitched from the intensity of the look in his eye, and she felt almost like everything was about to change. Then his phone beeped, and then rang. "What?" he asked his phone. "Did you start the steroids?" he asked the phone. "Oh…fine, I'll be in."_

_House hung up._

"_You're going in like this?"_

"_I'm usually high or drunk when diagnosing," he teased._

_She chuckled. "You shouldn't drive."_

"_I'll get a cab."_

"_OK," she said, sounding sad. "No patient contact though. Not until you've sobered up."  
_

"_I had fun."_

"_Me too"_

_He stood tentatively, rubbing at his thigh, and she rose and approached him, lifting one arm for a hug. He hesitated as she regarded his suspicion. She said with disbelief, "Take it easy. It's a hug…not a peace treaty."_

_He smirked and stepped closer. She felt amazing. She was warm, soft, her hoodie was as inviting as it looked, an additional layer of softness over her, and he pressed one cheek against her face and the other against the soft cotton. He felt so huge and warm next to her, simultaneously forbidden and destined._

_The hug lasted a few seconds too long, and he felt her lips brush softly on his cheek. "Thanks for salvaging my evening."_

"_Anytime," he replied, "if any of your other plans fall through, you could call…beg me to save you from the boredom."_

_She smiled, "And if you need a consult…real…or not real…you could stop by…tomorrow evening."_

* * *

Cuddy was startled out of her thoughts when they arrived at their destination.

"Here!" House announced. "You OK?" he asked when he saw the look on her face.

"Yea, definitely," Cuddy answered.

They walked into the Bayley Observatory, and met with House's contact. Sonia Goodridge was a local woman in her mid-forties, with purposefully wild hair and dark purple, slightly over-sized glasses. Her dress suited her style, loose, wild and covered in saturated colors.

"Doctor House," she said, in a heavily Barbadian accent. "So good to see you again."

House nodded, briefly introduced Cuddy, and then asked, "Do you have it?"

"Of course," the woman answered back, signaling for the pair to follow her.

There was a large box in the woman's office, a telescope, likely much larger than most people probably kept in their homes.

"Where's this going to fit?" Cuddy asked.

"Roof above my office," he answered.

Goodridge told him about the telescope while a few of her student assistants took the box to House's car. She was going to work personally with Ava, offering her some information and insights that would never be offered in an elementary school. The girl would have personalized one-on-one instruction with one of the finest minds in Astronomy.

"You…think it's a bad idea?" House asked while Goodridge was speaking to one of the assistants.

"No," Cuddy smiled, "I think it's a great idea. I love it."

"You don't think it's too big?"

"No, I don't."

"I thought maybe you…"

"Really," Cuddy said interrupting him, "I like it. It's a good time to learn something new…get a new hobby. And more importantly…Ava…is going to love it."

They returned to their car and made the drive back to the edge of their own town. The entrance to their next stop was so well hidden that it almost looked like there wasn't an entrance at all. Once they navigated around some brush and vine, they found a walkway to a neatly kept garden. There was an elderly local woman, easily in her seventies, kneeling over a patch of dirt and patiently tending to her plants. She nodded at House and then at the door to her home.

Once inside, the neatness and tidiness of the garden was contrasted by the chaos of an artist at work. The kitchen table had splatters of paint and dried clay. There were canvases in differing states and various clay creations drying on a large, sunny window. They continued through the kitchen onto the patio, where the man responsible for the indoor disarray could be found. Som Taksin, a small man in his eighties, born in Taiwan, sat shirtless in paint-splattered, white, linen pants with various sized paint brushes on his person. Three brushes were between the fingers of the hand that was not painting, two brushes were tucked behind his ears and a few were jutting out of his pants pocket.

The small man smiled warmly at his visitors, but said only, "Wait."

When Taksin returned, he was carrying several boxes, and he placed them on an open space on the kitchen table. House said, "When do you want Jack to come visit?"

Taksin looked at a calendar on the wall. It hadn't been updated for two months. "When he is ready," the little old man answered with a smile, then turned back to his painting, as if there were no guests in his home at all, and continued his work.

"Thanks," House said before he and Cuddy took the boxes to the car. "What do you think of Jack's present?"

"I like it. I'm surprised, but he'll love it."

"Why are you surprised?" House asked.

"I like that you are encouraging the artist in him…I thought you'd lead him toward more…intellectual pursuits."

"Jack can get lost in this like Ava can get lost in a nebula somewhere. It fits."

"Yes…it really does," she agreed as they got back in the car. "Your definition of shopping…is pretty unique."

"Oh?"

"You show up at people's places of business…or homes…and they've done the shopping for you."

"It's like going to a really upscale boutique…where they know what you want…and you just sort of…pick it up," House said with a shrug.

"A specialty boutique with an expert shopper. Certainly is faster that way."


	13. Disorderly Conduct

_A/N-Hi the__re, thanks to everyone who's reading along with this story, and to everyone who reviewed since the last posting: Redsox15, Victoria, JLCH, jaybe61, LoveMyHouse, KiwiClare, TheHouseWitch, Josam, Boo's House, HilsonFTW, LapizSilkwood, MsStevieCooper, Truth, IHeartHouseCuddy, dmarchl21, Alex, Abby, Suzieqlondon, HuddyGirl, Bakerstreet Blues, partypantscuddy, BJAllen815, 6cbrilhante and devonfc.  
_

* * *

_**-Five months after moving to Barbados-**_

_Cuddy came home from a long day at work. Most days at the Center weren't too bad, but there were always some that seemed to test her talents to the breaking point. House stayed home with the kids that morning, he often liked to take a day with them when school was first out for winter or summer break. Cuddy was entertaining the usual daydreams on the way home from work: a warm meal, comfortable clothes, reading a story with her children, and later, time with her husband. She walked in the door to find loud music filling her home. _

_There was no doubt they'd had a good day. In fact, it was easy for Cuddy to tell exactly what they'd been doing. When she first arrived, they were playing music. House's fingers were flying on the piano. Across the surface of the coffee table, there were numerous containers filled to varying levels with different liquids. Ava had a wooden spoon and a rubber spatula that she was using to create different sounds. Jack was on the floor, banging on different sizes of metal pans, ceramic bake ware, and plastic bowls. The three of them were having a blast._

_There were clothes in the hall that were discarded when, at some point during the day, a wardrobe change was deemed necessary. Out in the kitchen, it appeared that they made chocolate pudding, salad, and stromboli with homemade crust. Cuddy opened the fridge to find leftover salad to eat, and almost slipped on the floor. She looked around to try to determine what was so slippery, and she saw bubble wands and a paint roller pan filled with a special super bubble mix that House found a recipe for online a few days earlier. It seemed they decided to blow bubbles inside._

_Cuddy wanted to scream. She wanted to clean. She wanted to restore the order that had been completely disrupted in her home. She wanted to do all three at the same time. She started in one corner of the kitchen, deciding that her best course of action was to start at one end of the kitchen, and work her way around, cleaning a foot or two at a time since she had to start somewhere. She was cleaning angry, moving pieces from one place to the next, moving the paper towel roughly across the counter, scrubbing stains more vigorously than necessary. _

_She was just about to yell for House when she felt small hands tugging at her skirt. Jack and Ava were standing in front of her, and Ava gestured for Cuddy to come closer. Cuddy leaned down and Ava sprayed her with silly string. Tiny Jack laughed for a second, and then his small body registered his mother's irritation. He stepped forward, still wobbly, still a toddler, and he said gently, "Y'ok?"_

_Cuddy nodded, her hands pressed against her head, trying to relieve the tension. House rounded the corner and realized Cuddy was not happy. He settled the kids in the living room with a movie and returned to the kitchen to find Cuddy cleaning. "Why are you mad?" he asked._

_She blinked and waved her hands in disbelief, "I know you didn't just ask me that."_

"_I'm guessing it's because we didn't clean up dinner?"_

"_Ya think? Dinner and mess that's strewn through the place."_

"_What happened to…having fun. Learning from the past. Living. You walk in and start cleaning right away? You're…irritated that we had fun?"_

"_I'm glad you had fun, House. The thing is, I _have_ relaxed. I've practiced letting go and having fun, and it's been great. But there are some things that still need done," she said, bracing her arms on the counter and staring down._

"_You don't have to clean it immediately. You didn't even give us time to clean up. We can clean up later…or tomorrow. It always gets done."_

"_Why do you think that is? How do you think it gets done?"_

_House shrugged.  
_

"_I do it," she insisted. "And you know what sucks? It isn't even that I have to clean. It's that I have to clean, and you get to have the fun. They walk around like…you're their hero…you're one of them…the most fun guy in the entire world. And then there's me."_

"_They're crazy about you."_

"_They are. It's true. But they also know who to go to when they want to have fun, and it's not me."_

"_That's not true," he countered, handing her a can of silly string and producing a foam dart gun. "Come on…No one's excluding you."_

"_If this doesn't get cleaned up, god knows what bugs will be drawn in here. There's a bubble slick across half of this floor, and you walk with a cane. What happens if you fall? Someone has to think about this stuff. I know it's great to have fun. I am thrilled that I have a husband who loves to hang out with his kids. You are there for them, and I do appreciate that more than you know. But when it comes down to it, one of us has to be realistic. One of us has to make sure the home is clean…and safe. And I guess that has to be me."_

"_It'll get done later."_

"_Later, you'll be sleeping because you had them all day and you're probably exhausted, so if I wait, I'll just end up doing it later when I'm more tired than I am now. Tomorrow, we're both at work, tomorrow evening, is date night."_

_House looked around the open room. In so many ways, he could embrace childhood and all of its delights wholeheartedly, but Cuddy did have a point. "I'll help you clean up. Let's attack the kids…show them who's boss. Then, we'll help you clean up."_

_Cuddy looked around, uncertain of what to believe, but deciding if she was going to clean up, she should at least have a few minutes of fun before the work began._

"_You made your point. You were right. It has to get done, and sometimes…I forget about it because you take care of the details for us. We ride the train because you get the tickets," he admitted. "I'll do better if you keep playing."_

_She smiled at him, hesitantly at first, and then more easily. "We can try."_

"_Now, as I was saying," he insisted, handing the 'weapons' to her, "Let's get 'em."_

_Cuddy smiled, and she and House went on the offensive. They played hard for the next half hour, and then all of the members of Cuddy's family helped to clean up the mess they had made._

* * *

At home after a movie, the children were playing a board game with Blythe, waiting for Cuddy and House to return. The couple sat on the sofa behind Jack and House said, "If you don't like it, you can have something else."

Jack looked up curiously from the ground at his parents. "It? What is it?"

"We got you each something. But you have to tell us if you don't like it. Promise?" House asked both kids, who eagerly nodded in answer to his question.

"Jack, your stuff is on the patio out back," Cuddy said, "And Ava, we'll take you down for your stuff in a little bit, it's at the Center."

Jack and Ava darted toward the sliding patio door and found several boxes. Ava waited impatiently while Jack looked at the boxes, "Open 'em, Jack!" Ava insisted.

Jack lifted the lid slowly, just as his parents walked out onto the patio. His expression said everything his mouth did not. He was thrilled, excited almost to the point of being completely overwhelmed. Ava looked inside one box and spoke for him, "Woah!"

Cuddy knelt down, "Jack?"

The little boy's grey eyes were wide and his face curled into a grin, "For me?"

Cuddy nodded, "Your dad picked this stuff."

Jack looked at his father, and sighed a grateful, "Thanks."

Ava helped him pull the items from the boxes, ranging from ordinary supplies like crayons and paper, to paints and sculpting clay. Jack stood, walked over to his parents, and said, with a look far too serious to be originating from a five year-old, "Thank you, guys."

"You're welcome," both of his parents responded.

Although there were occasionally complaints from people about smart-assed comments coming from the children, and their sometimes abrasive honesty, both children were typically filled with grateful appreciation. It made sense with Ava, given her personal history, but they were often surprised by how appreciative Jack was of the things he was given. They were, like their parents, often blunt, to the point, and sometimes seen as belligerent or difficult, but beneath that, children with a great deal of understanding.

"Can I play with this stuff now?" Jack asked, staring at Cuddy.

"Do you want to go see what Ava got?"

"No," Jack said evenly. "I want to do this. You'll be a good artist, Mom. You want to do it with me?"

House snickered from behind Cuddy and she shot a glare over her shoulder. Their occasional forays into drawing games consistently proved that Cuddy was not a talented drawer. The last time they played ended with House laughing to the point where he could no longer draw. When House started chuckling a bit more obnoxiously behind her, she turned and smacked his arm. "Sure, Buddy. I'll stay. That OK with you?" she asked her daughter. "Later we can switch. Then we'll see how good _you_ are at drawing," Cuddy scowled at House who playfully sneered back.

House took Ava and Blythe down to the office, where Kate was already busily assembling the telescope. Cuddy looked at Jack, "So what do you want to try first?"

"I want to paint something," he answered after cautious and deep thought.

"OK," Cuddy answered, "Go get those old shirts your dad gave you and we'll paint."

After they were set up, Jack started smearing some paint using new brushes on a large piece of white paper. His representation of the backyard was pretty good. Cuddy sat at his side, making comments as he painted, and then he asked her to try one.

"That's OK, this is your stuff," Cuddy said with a smile.

"You should try it. I think you're gonna be really good at it," he insisted.

She hugged him, even though his hands were covered in paint, as was his chin and one cheek. "OK," she conceded, "I'll try it. Will you help me?"

He nodded pushing paper across the small table toward her. "OK," he said, "Close your eyes. And picture something that you want to paint."

Cuddy tried not to giggle as she listened to her son speak as if he was a seasoned instructor. The boy walked to her other side, placed a brush in her hand, and then he said, "Do you have the picture in your head?"

Cuddy nodded. "Alright, open your eyes," Jack added as he pushed open tubs of paint around the edge of her paper so she could reach them all. "Now get started. Remember, your head knows how it's supposed to look, so don't…ya know…think about it a lot."

"Thanks," Cuddy said nodding her acceptance, "I'll give it a try."

Jack went to his own paper and began painting his own picture. Cuddy was chatting with him while they worked. The boy had an amazing imagination, and was able to tell some really interesting stories, so his parents often gave him a starting point, and then let him tell the story. Cuddy gave him a lead in, "So the other day, I heard the weirdest sound when I opened the big, glass freezer door at the grocery store…"

Jack stopped painting for a second while his mother thought he was thinking of the story. "Thanks for getting me painting stuff."

"Sure," she said, noting the almost sad tone in his voice. "Is something wrong?"

"Sorry I'm not smart like Ava."

Cuddy looked started, and Jack felt relief almost instantly. "You are really, very smart. We want you to be Jack, and we want Ava to be Ava. Did we do something to make you feel like that?"

"Ava's really smart."

"Ava's older than you."

"Everyone talks about how smart she is."

"Jack, you are really bright. You are extremely articulate…what's incredible is, you know what articulate means…and you are only five. You are very, very smart."

"But Ava's…a genius, right?"

"Probably," Cuddy nodded, "That's her strength. You don't have to be like her. We honestly want you to be…just like you. Trust me, you are a really smart guy."

Jack smiled subtly. Cuddy continued painting and then began to tell a story of her own, "When I was a kid, I was the smartest kid in my class. Every year. I was made fun of by other kids, that's how smart I was."

"That's not nice," Jack said. "So you were like Ava."

"Hang on," Cuddy said while she continued to paint. "I was a lot smarter than my sister, and really the smartest in my family. And then…I got to college."

"The college where you met Dad?"

"Yup. I wasn't the smartest one there. And I met your dad…and you know what…that guy made me feel really dumb."

"You're not dumb."

"He made me feel dumb because he was so much smarter than me."

"That's not true."

"It is. Your dad…is brilliant. Probably one of the smartest people alive."

"My Dad?"

"Yea. Your dad. Then when he started to work for me, I really had to stay on my toes. The thing is, I'm not dumb. I'm really smart. I kept up with him…competed with him, worked _with_ him. I got a reputation for being someone who could stand up to him. Eventually…he respected me. I think he respects my brain too. In the end, we are both smart, and we both have things we are good at."

"So you're like me."

"In some ways. You are…a brilliant guy all by yourself. But you also get people. You understand things that people much older than you never understand. You have to figure out as you grow up what you like, what you are good at, what you really feel strongly about. You are sweet and…looking at your painting," Cuddy said, pointing at his work, "you have some real artistic talent. No one else in this family has that."

Jack stopped painting and smirked at her. His look was knowing, one of those moments where his smirk became a smile and he looked so much like his father. "What's that look about?" Cuddy asked with delight.

Jack stood next to her and looked at her painting. "See," he said, "you are smart _and_ really good at painting…when you stop thinking about it."

Cuddy looked down at her painting and was shocked to see that it actually _was_ good. She looked back at Jack. "What made you think that I'd be good at that?"

"You can tell," he said, smiling sweetly up at her.

"You think you know me so well huh?" she said with a friendly challenge voice.

"Uh-huh!" Jack said.

Cuddy turned around and grabbed a jar of the finger paints and opened it. "Need more paper?" Jack asked.

"Nope," Cuddy said, slowly shaking her head 'no.'

She dipped her finger into the bright blue paint with one hand, and opened the orange one and set it next to her. She looked at her son, and said, "Oh, Jack…you got a little paint on your face."

She watched while he crinkled and shifted his face around, trying to see the paint, but unable to see it without a mirror. "I'll get it baby," she said, leaning down to study his face.

Watching while Jack registered the mischievous look on her face, she swiped at the little smudges of green paint on his cheek with her blue paint covered hand. Jack's eyes registered shock, then joy as he saw her dip into the orange paint with her other hand, and _clean_ _off_ his forehead. "There was a little bit up there too," she said.

Jack started laughing so hard he was almost bent over and then he stood up, his own mischievous glint in his eye, and he said, in his sweetest voice, "I love you, Mom," before he dove in for a hug, the paint from his face transferring onto her cheek and the edges of her pulled back hair.

Cuddy laughed and lifted him up onto the table, opening more jars of finger paint. She decorated most of Jack's face with different colors, getting a mirror so he could see the progress she was making. When she was done, Jack said, "Now I'll do your face."

"No," Cuddy said, laughing. "Thanks…but no thanks."

"Please?" Jack all but begged.

"No…sweetie…" she started, and then she saw the look on his face. Jack inherited many things from his father, but the most dangerous thing was the wounded, sad face.

Cuddy tilted her head and wrinkled her face, "You really, really want to do that?"

"It'll wash off, right?"

"Yea…" she answered hesitantly.

"Maybe… I could do your arm instead?" he asked, the negotiation and compromise skills he inherited from his mother shining through.

"Why not," she said, and was rewarded with Jack's wide grin.

"Yessss," the boy hissed with joy.

Jack arranged the various colors on the table, and then began his work on Cuddy's left arm. He painted lines and swirls around her skin in quite an intricate pattern, particularly given his age. Sitting there, concentrating, lost in his task, he looked so much like her. Cuddy would remember that moment for the rest of her life, it was perfectly engrained in her head. The little boy stared with such intense concentration and enthusiasm that she would never regret the mess that was made.

When he was almost done, he looked up from his work and whispered, "I can't believe you let me do this."

Cuddy smiled, "You know that normally you're gonna use paper…right?"

Jack nodded and went back to his work. House came home, walked through the living room, pausing briefly at the patio door, taking a step away, and then coming back. He slid the screen door open, walked out, and looked with immense suspicion over the scene in front of him. Cuddy looked as if she'd been caught. Jack looked as if he won.

House bent down and loudly whispered to Jack, "Did you drug your mom's water…again?"

Jack giggled and nodded. "Vitamins," he claimed.

"Vitamins, huh?" House said, "Well…that will get her to play right into your hand." He flopped down onto the chair next to Cuddy and said, with fake disapproval, "I can't trust you alone here for an hour?"

Cuddy shook her head but smiled at him, one of the brief tender moments that seemed so common to their children. The kids often made fun of such moments, but even though they'd never admit it as children, the affection between their parents helped them to feel safe and secure. They felt as if the love and concern in their family was indestructible.

"I'll do your arm next, Dad," Jack said happily.

"No way," House answered sternly, "You know your mom's the pushover around here."

Cuddy shot him a scowl, and watched him suppress a smile in response as he said, "I came here to get one of the constellation maps from Ava's room, but apparently I'm also here to clean up your mess."

"Get your map and go," Cuddy said sweetly.

"You guys want to come along? Kate put the telescope together, and it's getting dark. Ava offered to let you two slackers check out some stars too," House offered.

Jack nodded. Cuddy looked around, "You guys go, I'll clean up."

House nodded and then said, "Or…you could go get a shower, Jack will clean up while I boss him around, and we can all go."

"Are you sure?" Cuddy asked as House snapped a picture of her and her painted arm with his phone.

"Don't ask me," House said, "I'm not helping him. He'll do all of the work."

Jack smirked when his dad pretended to hide his face and gave an exaggerated wink.

Cuddy smiled, and said, with great love, "Thanks, Jack," before she slipped from the room.

Once Cuddy was out of sight, House said to Jack, "Would you quit whining and begging?"

"What?" the boy said, looking up from his stuff.

House was amazed by the care Jack took with his gift, cautiously placing the correct lids on the correct jars. "Stop begging me to help you. Fine, fine."

Jack laughed, "I can do it, I made the mess."

House gathered the dirty brushes and went to the sink to clean them out. When he was finished, he went back to the table to help Jack put away more supplies, and he saw the paintings they had done. "Nice job, Jack. I like the colors. Who did this one?" House asked.

"Mom"

"Right," House scoffed. "Who did it? Did Mel come over?"

"Nope. It was Mom."

"Hunh," House answered. "Not bad."

"See, I said she'd be good."

When they were all ready, House picked up Ava's constellation map, and all three of them went to find Ava and Blythe.


	14. Cosmic Observations

_A/N-Thank you so much to all of the readers and this last chapter's reviewers: redsox15, Tori, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, MsStevieCooper, OldSFfan, jaybe61, IHeartHouseCuddy, Josam, JJ, BJAllen815, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, 6cbrilhante and justlobe_

* * *

_**-Apartment in Philadelphia-almost 2 weeks before Jack was born-**_

_Cuddy walked through the apartment stretching her legs, one hand pressed supportively on her lower back as she tried to balance her large belly. Ava was sleeping. Cuddy glanced at the clock, it was just after two am, dark, the sounds of the city as faded as they ever were. House was out getting milkshakes. She never woke him to go get her food or to meet strange culinary cravings, but she did wake him up for sex. Pregnancy certainly didn't lower her appetite for lovemaking. She woke him a little earlier, enticing him and easily convincing him that sex just after midnight was a fantastic idea. Of course, she could always convince him that almost any time was perfect for sex. _

_When they lay against each other afterwards, she said, absently, "I'd love one of those…orange pineapple milkshakes. Why don't they deliver?"_

_He chuckled, "OK…I'll go."_

"_No," she insisted, "I don't want you to go. I just…suddenly thought that sounded really delicious."_

"_Because it does," he said, but when he tried to get up she pulled him back to her._

"_I'm not sending you out this late."_

"_It's a craving. Isn't this part of my duties as an expectant father? You almost never send me on midnight runs to meet your cravings…I feel remiss in my obligations."_

"_You meet my other cravings just fine," she laughed as she palmed his testicles, "And it isn't a craving, it's an observation."_

"_I get so tired of being treated like an orgasm vending machine," he whined._

"_Aw…poor baby."_

_House closed his eyes, holding her closely against him. After five minutes of attempting sleep, his eyes popped open, "Well…your observation…has turned into my craving. I'm running over to the diner."_

"_Are you serious?" she asked, laughing._

"_Don't try to demean the power of hormones and sympathetic pregnancy, Cuddy," he said, feigning a weepy pregnancy moment._

"_Smartass. You are so lucky I just got laid and I'm in a good mood," she jabbed._

_He smirked at her. "You really want that orange pineapple crap?"_

_She nodded, "If you're going, that's the kind I want."_

_He got up out of bed and started getting dressed, "Are you trying to sneak healthy into something that's inherently unhealthy…because face it, you can put spinach in a milkshake and it's still bad for you…and then it tastes like shit. Why ruin a good milkshake?"_

"_Mmm…spinach," she teased as she saw a look of sheer horror cover his face. "You can taste it…it's really good. I'm not craving that flavor because I think it's healthier, I'm craving it because it tastes so good."_

"_Ah-ha," he declared, pointing victoriously at her, "I told you it was a craving."_

_A few minutes later, he was heading out the door, and she was walking and stretching, as her back was aching and her baby had a knee or an elbow wedged under the edge of her ribs. Her peaceful walk came to an abrupt and disturbing end when Ava screamed from her room. _

_Years would pass, truly a decade would pass, and that sound never became less heart-wrenching for Cuddy. Often roused from sleep by Ava's screams, her subconscious, her dreams, would blend the twin pains of both of her daughters before alertness reminded her of reality. Reality came with both relief and disappointment as she was reminded that one daughter was safe in bed, though emotionally traumatized, and the other was gone from her forever. _

_Cuddy hurried back to Ava's room, sat on the edge of the small bed, and pulled the wailing girl onto her lap. She carried Ava to the rocker, but Cuddy's belly made the usual routine difficult. The girl was trying to calm down, but couldn't seem to get comfortable, and they were both getting frustrated. Cuddy stood, shifting the girl's weight onto her hip and walking out toward the living room. Ava was still sniffling, unable to easily break through her fear and sadness. Grabbing a light blanket, Cuddy threw it over the girl's shoulders, and walked to the balcony door. Cuddy carried Ava outside and sat in the chair, putting the child on the table in front of her so she could sit comfortably. Once settled, belly under the table where the girl sat, Cuddy wrapped her arms around Ava and kept her close without anything in their way._

_Cuddy held her, rubbed her back soothingly, and Ava leaned her head on her mom's shoulder as the sobbing slowed. Cuddy pointed up to the sky. The night was clear, and the stars were easily visible, even with the dimming effect of the brightness of the city. "That's Orion," Cuddy said, pointing out Sirius, and telling the little girl the story of the hunter and his loyal dog. _

_Ava listened intently, cuddling closer and enjoying the story almost as much as the soothing sound of her mother's voice. As she spoke, Cuddy could almost hear her own father, telling her the stories as a child while he pointed to the sky. Her dad had been gone so long, sometimes it felt like he existed in a completely different world from the one she found herself living. Her father loved mythology and the stars, and the stories about the constellations were a pleasant meeting of two things he enjoyed._

_Cuddy remembered the Fourth of July, the year that she had once considered the worst year of her life. The year she and House imploded in painful and life changing ways, and she and Rachel ran to Baltimore to try to start a new life. That Fourth of July, Cuddy and Rachel watched fireworks over Inner Harbor, just the two of them, the reflections off of the windows of surrounding buildings and off of the water, accompanied by the crisp boom of each explosion, seemed to draw them into living in the moment. After the finale finished, and the last puffs of smoke hovered in the air, there was the chaos of crowd dissipation. Cuddy grabbed her daughter's hand, and they stood pressed against a nearby building to wait until the near stampede had slowed. That night, to pass time, Cuddy told Rachel the same stories she'd tell Ava one day. _

_Years later, in Philadelphia, Ava fell asleep listening to stories about the stars, half sitting on the table, half leaning on her mom, with her tiny arms wrapped around Cuddy's neck. When House returned with large styrofoam cups filled with milkshakes, he noticed the balcony door opened, and saw everything he valued in the world occupying little more than two square feet of space, Ava resting peacefully in Cuddy's arms._

* * *

House, Cuddy and Jack found Blythe, Ava and Kate sitting on the roof of the Center with the newly assembled telescope. It was larger than Cuddy had imagined it would be, and Ava looked every bit as happy with her telescope as Jack looked with his art supplies. She ran to her brother, grabbed his hand, and yanked him toward the telescope. She lowered the telescope so he could see, and realigned it. She told her brother, "Tonight, we should be able to see Jupiter and some moons. And your favorite…the Crab Nebula."

As the sun set, the family watched as stars appeared, and Ava shared the extensive knowledge she'd gained over the years. Jack was excited, but soon began to fade as the night grew later. Kate and Blythe offered to take the boy home for bed. Cuddy went downstairs to give the next round of treatment to Mike while House stayed with Ava on the roof.

"When are we leaving for our field trip?" Ava asked while she peered through her telescope.

"Three days," House answered from his spot seated on the cold concrete.

"Will Uncle Wilson be there?"

"His boyish smiling face will meet us at the airport."

"Will Grandma be there? And Aunt Julia?"

"At some point," House said, trying not to sound disappointed. "They'll want to see you guys."

"Why do you and Aunt Julia not like each other?"

House sighed, "When things happened with me and your mom…"

He drifted into thought. Ava knew about her parents' past. There were not lies between them. When House first told Ava what happened, he was terrified, but the girl always seemed so accepting of her parents, and the more honest they were about their flaws, the more accepting she seemed to become. Both of her parents shared their mistakes and discussed their regrets years earlier.

"When you relapsed and crashed into Mom's house?" Ava asked bluntly, still searching for something through the lens of her new gift.

"Even before that," House said, scratching the back of his head. "She thought that I wasn't a good fit for her sister. Now, Julia and I accept that the other one is there to stay, and we try not to let our past mutual dislike interfere too much in the present."

"But you like each other better than you used to?"

"We try because we both love your mom."

"But Grandma _loves_ you."

"I don't know if I'd say that."

"Oh please," Ava laughed, "Everyone knows it."

House smirked just a bit. It was true, Arlene adored him, and still brought her best banter and criticism whenever she met with House. Her insistence on treating him with derision only served to make it more clear how much she liked him.

"You never got angry with me or acted differently when you heard about the things I did. Why not?" It was a question he had often pondered, but had never asked.

"You want me to be angry at you for it?"

"No. I don't _want_ you be angry at me for it…but I would _understand_ if you were."

"You're…my Dad. I know you pretty well. You won't hurt anybody."

"I mean…I did though."

"You and Mom worry so much about this. You worry about the weirdest things. All of the time, and it's dumb."

"Why's that?"

"Because I know how you are. You and Mom both pretend to be so tough, but you get your feelings hurt just like everybody else. And you guys spent lots of time hurting each other's feelings, and I think you still try to make it up to each other. You have talked to me, and Mom has talked to me, and you both always try to take most of the blame. I guess that's how I know you guys really care about each other. You don't blame each other for what happened, you blame yourselves."

House looked at her, appreciating the different viewpoint.

"See, Dad," Ava said, "You and Mom…sorta had breakdowns, just like I do, but you didn't have someone to show you how to get rid of your anger or sadness or whatever was bothering you. Right?"

House nodded. "I guess."

"I'd be a mess if I didn't have someone help me figure out how to do that. And to take care of me when I'm not thinking right. With you…I think that drugs made it easier to do things you wouldn't have done normally. I think that if you aren't on drugs, you wouldn't do something like that."

"I wouldn't."

"And you know that, so you don't do drugs. If you went out and started to do a lot of drugs again, then I'd be mad, because you know that sometimes you go too far when you are on drugs. And then I'd think...that you didn't really care much, because you'd risk hurting us."

House nodded again and they sat in silence, staring up at the sky for a few minutes.

"I know I'm a difficult kid sometimes," she sighed.

"You aren't," he answered without hesitation.

"Yes, I am. I get really angry. Way angrier than other kids. I have those dreams and I get you guys up at night. You're all patient. I get mad, and you let me be mad when I need to. I wake you up screaming, and you don't get frustrated."

"It's not your fault, you can't control night terrors."

"Kela, in my class…she has asthma," Ava said, "She gets attacks at night sometimes. Her Dad gets mad if he has to get up. Is it medically possible for the asthma to be her fault?"

House smirked, "No, I don't think a kid gave themselves asthma. I mean…I guess she could seek out triggers…"

Ava looked at him sternly. "Fine," he said, "the fact that an eight year-old has asthma is definitely not her fault."

"Thank you," Ava answered victoriously. "So it's not her fault either, but her parents get really mad. If you were able to hurt me, it would be when I wake you in the middle of the night when you are tired and frustrated. Or when I broke the TV that one day when I was freaking out. But you don't. You were almost scary calm. And then you punished me after I settled down. But you never really seem angry, even when I wake you in the middle of the night."

"That's because I'm not angry."

"I sorta remember…how they put me in different homes when I was little. Before I went back to you guys. They all didn't want me. "

"They were idiots. But, I guess it's good for us that they were idiots because we got to keep you. I knew there was a reason I liked idiots."

"You were really hurt when Mom left you, huh?"

House looked down toward his hands, "Yea…I mean…yea it hurt. Tons. More than I think I ever hurt in my life."

"More than your leg?"

"Way more that my leg."

"Jason's leaving my school," Ava finally said sadly.

"Why?" House asked startled.

Jason was Ava's only real friend in school. House always guessed the boy was abused earlier in life.

"His parents are moving to Paris. Some job as a professor."

House nodded.

"There's something I have to tell you, Dad…I think this might make you mad at me."

House looked ahead, feeling uncomfortable. These were always the moments when he was most concerned with screwing things up. He wanted Ava to trust him, and yet, he had to sometimes be a strong parental figure, give advice or correction.

"Tell me," House said calmly.

"Jason tried to hold my hand in the library…before he knew he was moving," she said, pushing her hair back in an attempt to look mature.

"Did ya punch him?" House said calmly and lightly.

"No!" Ava answered, "I held his hand for a minute. Are you mad?"

House's shoulders chuckled, "No, I'm not mad. I think…maybe you are a little young for _dating_."

Ava bumped his arm, "We aren't _dating_. After school, I told him that I didn't think I was ready for a boyfriend."

"I agree, you are too young, and…I'm really glad you are mature enough to know that."

"The thing is though, I'm still really sad he's leaving."

House nodded, hearing the sadness in her voice.

She continued, her tone somber, "He told his mom that he loved me."

"Wow," House answered.

"Yea, and his mom said that eight year-olds don't know what love is."

"There are different kinds of love. People…say stuff like that to dismiss how you feel." His irritation grew as he thought about it, and House scoffed loudly, "That's such crap. Eight year-olds know what love is. Actually, kids your age probably know more about what love is than a lot of adults."

"Right," Ava said dismissively.

"I'm serious. You guys…care about each other without worrying about relationship status or appearances. You guys aren't all…tied up in hormones and sex."

Ava's face cringed in disgust at the mention of sex and House couldn't deny the sense of relief he felt that she was disturbed by the mere use of the word.

"Sorry, kid, it's true," he shrugged. "Adults, are sometimes dumb when it comes to sex."

"Could you please stop saying that word?"

"Dumb?" he teased.

"Sex," she answered with frustration.

"God, Ava, that's so gross, do you have to say that word, like…all of the time," he teased.

She covered her head with her arms in embarrassment and he jabbed her arm with his elbow, "You'll be alright…I won't say it anymore…today."

She lifted her head and he said seriously, "All I meant was, you guys care about each other because…you _like_ each other. Because you like who the other person is. You are real friends. A lot of adults could learn from that."

"You couldn't say that the first time?"

"And miss such a fantastic opportunity to embarrass you?"

She looked at him, both irritated and pleading, "Most people think we don't get it. They think we're just stupid kids and we're too young to understand."

"Don't let people tell you that what you feel isn't what you feel," House said, his irritation at other people's dismissal showing through.

"He is my friend. And I am sad he's leaving."

"Eight or ninety-eight…heartache is heartache, and it sucks…it really hurts," House answered seriously.

"Thanks"

"Why didn't you tell me he was getting all handsy," House joked.

"This is exactly why…he wasn't getting handsy, he was…"

"I'm joking, relax," House said. After a few minutes of silence he added, with some concern, "But, really. Why didn't you tell me? About the whole hand holding thing, or him leaving…or how you felt?"

"Normal girls don't tell their dads stuff like that," she answered as if the answer was completely obvious.

"But you told me tonight…"

"I guess…we aren't normal, and I had to remember that."

"Did you talk to Kate or Mel or your mom about this?"

"No. Why…are you jealous?"

"No, not at all. I just…I want you to tell me stuff…because I am awesome, and I want to know, and I want you to trust me. But…"

"I trust you," she interrupted.

He held up a finger, "But…if there's something you can't tell me, you should probably try talking to one of them. You know…so you don't have to feel alone. If something really big is going on…I never want you to feel you're alone."

Ava looked away in a way that House found odd. "What?" he asked.

"I did talk to someone."

"Well…I mean someone who isn't the handsy guy. Someone you can really trust to look out for you."

"I did."

"Who?"

"Jack"

"Jack? You trusted your little brother?"

"Oh yea. Well, he knew something was wrong."

"What did he say?" House asked.

"He said it sucks that Jason's leaving. And when I told him about people saying that we don't know what love is, he said the same thing you did: 'that's crap.'"

"Smart kid. How'd you know he wouldn't tell?"

"He just wouldn't"

"He's your little brother…a demographic that is notorious for selling out the older sister."

"He wouldn't, trust me."

"You have something on him, don't you?"

Ava smirked and looked away. "Jack and I are really close."

"A truth. But a truth being used to divert me from the answer I want."

"But still a truth," she answered.

As the conversation broke down, he helped Ava push the telescope into a storage shed on the roof nearby to protect it from the weather.

"While we're discussing important things, oh beloved daughter, apple of my eye, one of the lights of my life," House declared with dramatic emphasis, "What's my tell?"

"No way, Dad. Just…no way."

"Come on," he said, dropping the artificial sweetness from his voice.

"It's the one card Jack and I have. We agreed never to play that card unless we both think we should."

"Which one of you figured it out?"

"You're trying to trick me by starting with easy questions and getting me to drop my guard."

"No I'm not," House scoffed, but it was clear the girl was right.

"I'm not saying anything, Dad. Sorry."

"Do you two have…meetings and stuff…do you take minutes…make quarterly projections…pass motions?"

"Yup," Ava giggled as they went downstairs to meet up with Cuddy. "We're very organized."

They saw Cuddy finishing up with Mike, turning out the lights in the weary man's room. When Cuddy emerged she said, "Frank's looking for you."

"Tomorrow," House said casually, and the three of them began their journey home.


	15. One Thing

_A/N-Hello! Thank you very much to everyone who's involved in this story, and to the reviewers since last time: OldSFfan, IHeartHouseCuddy, justlobe, Boo's House, KiwiClare, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, Josam, Bounce, newdayz, JLCH, aussiefan12, Truth, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, dmarchl21, HilsonFTW, Suzieqlondon, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, ClareBear14, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, Lisa Jay, and Mon Fogel._

_*This chapter includes adult content. Here's another one that's heavy on flashback, hope you enjoy.  
_

* * *

When House, Cuddy, and Ava returned home from the Center, they saw Frank and Blythe on the front porch. House sighed his disapproval as soon as he saw them. Ava was excitedly chattering about the stars, her thoughts more scattered as tiredness set in, and her brain was scrambling to stay alert. House and Cuddy took Ava to her room to wish her good night and the girl was asleep within minutes. Cuddy stopped in Jack's room to check on him, and when she and House went into the living room, Blythe was waiting there. "Your father and I would like to talk to you," Blythe requested.

"You found out I've been sneaking a girl into my room at night?"

"Gregory, please, we just want to talk."

"I wasn't the one who broke the lamp playing ball in the living room."

Blythe didn't speak, but her eyes were pleading for compliance.

"Fine," House said before he and Cuddy went out onto the front porch where Frank was waiting.

House leaned on the railing, opting not to sit in one of the chairs in a move that Cuddy thought reflected his need to be able to leave as quickly as possible, maintain an open escape route, should things become too uncomfortable for him.

"Greg," Frank said, "I'll be leaving in two days, going with Mike for his transplant."

"OK," House answered. "Good luck," he added.

"I really _do_ want to thank you for overlooking the mistakes we've made in order to help someone…to help Mike."

"Yea," House nodded, visibly uncomfortable.

"I'd like you to feel welcome to visit my side of the family. Of course, Mike's father will be certain that you are adequately compensated, but…when I spoke to him last night, he said he'd like to meet you. So would your sister. They're…still pretty angry with me, but now that they know about you, they'd like to meet you."

"Son," Blythe said, "There are so many problems entangled with this. I wish this was simple, but it just isn't. There are issues with your dad that I fear we'll never resolve."

House looked at her, the lightness that he found previously was returning. "We're good, Mom, I told you."

Blythe nodded with acceptance, knowing that he meant the words that he said. "Thank you. But on top of all of that…there's the fact of my…indiscretion. Anger you may have with me or with Frank regarding that."

Frank added, "Greg, I should have been there for you. I don't know…exactly what your life's been like, but from what I see between you and your mother, things must have been tough. I've always been too much of a coward. That's what I've found. Too much of a coward to be there for you. Too much of a coward to step up. Too much of a coward to fight for what I wanted. Funny thing is…I've always been a tough man, a man's man, and I've never seen myself as a coward until now. I really did love your mom. And I had two chances with her, and I failed at both. Now…I have a third chance…and I have a chance with you and your family…I hope."

House looked at him for a moment and nodded his head.

"I'm…old…and I've lived a long and easy life in very selfish ways," Frank said, "I can't change the past, but, if you'll allow me, I think it can be different now. I can change directions. Mike getting sick…is a horrible thing, but it forced me to be honest with my family, to be honest with you and your mom. So, maybe good things may come of it. And if this…saves him…if you save him…" the old man cleared his throat.

Blythe took Frank's hand comfortingly.

"So you guys are…seeing each other again?" House asked.

"We're friends," Blythe said, "good friends, I hope. I will be visiting him back home, and we're going to catch up. Maybe we'll have a chance to make amends…to each other…maybe a little to you."

House still looked remarkably at ease and simply nodded.

"I'm gonna go," Frank said, "I'll head back down to see my grandson. Blythe, breakfast?"

"Oh definitely," she said, "I'll be waiting here for you in the morning."

Frank kissed her hand in an oddly antiquated gesture that seemed to fit the pair perfectly. He walked over to Cuddy and offered his good night with a friendly yet genteel handshake, and then he turned toward House and opened his arms as if he was going to embrace him.

House looked at the man with unmistakable confusion and near horror, and the old man laughed, "I'm just kidding," and he jutted his hand forward to offer a handshake.

Looking down at the old man's hand and thinking for a moment, House finally said, "G'night, Frank, I'll see you next time." House's smile was small, but not unfriendly, as he walked past Frank and into the living room.

A few minutes later, Blythe came in and sat down next to House while Cuddy was getting ready for bed. "I'm going to visit him after I leave here in a few days."

"OK"

"It's worth the try"

"OK"

"You were nicer to him than I thought you'd be," Blythe said calmly.

"Really?" House asked, looking at her.

"You are a good doctor, and a good father…but no one would blame you for punching the guy in the face."

House chuckled, "Thanks. Maybe if I wasn't concerned that he'd turn to dust on contact."

"He's not _that _old," she defended, looking shy.

"He's pretty old."

"I'm so glad you…let me know how you felt about me, your dad, and Frank," Blythe confessed. "I guess…I never really knew some of those things. I mean…I knew some things but…"

"It's not a big deal."

"Oh, but it is. And you know it. And I do thank you for letting me in…because…I hope you'll be able to move forward…because not only do I want you to _allow_ me to be in your life…because I know you'll allow it…but I want you to want me there."

"I do…Mom."

"Do you think we'll be alright?"

"Yea"

"Me too," she said as House smiled at her. "Now, go find your wife. I hope you appreciate the bravery you both had in finding each other. You…should still remember the risks you took. Because you put everything on the line to have each other. And it's work…to keep something like this going."

"Good night, Mom."

"Good night, son."

* * *

_**-18 months after moving to Barbados-**_

_Arlene needed surgery. It wasn't a life-threatening situation, a simple procedure to remove pieces of cartilage that broke off in her knee, but she decided she needed her daughter there. She told Cuddy she had a feeling that everything was going to go wrong, and she wanted her daughter, the doctor, to be her medical proxy. House believed the entire move was manipulative: Arlene wanted to force her daughter to come back to home turf. The surgery would be in Philadelphia, her specialist had an office only a few miles away from Cuddy and House's old apartment. Cuddy finally agreed to be there._

_The plan was simple, and Medford, as always, offered to help. His private jet would fly Cuddy to Miami where she could get a flight to Philly. She'd arrive a few hours before the surgery, stay with her mom through the recovery, spend the night in Philly, and fly home the next day. Kate and Mel offered to help House with the kids, because, although he wanted to go along, he was in the middle of a case. Because they both knew, trying to watch two children while waiting in the hospital and tending to her mother's needs would be impossible for Cuddy. _

_Things were tense those few days as they got ready, as House was preoccupied by his case, and Cuddy by her mother and preparations to leave. He took her to the airport to meet Medford's plane in the middle of the night. "Thanks for taking me," she said as she got into the taxi with him._

"_Yea," he answered quietly._

_She had her hand casually on his knee, enjoying their final moments together. She whispered, "I'll miss you."_

"_You wouldn't have to miss me if your mother wasn't being a controlling, old bitch."_

"_What?" Cuddy said, surprised. _

"_She doesn't need you there. It's a control play."_

"_She is having surgery."_

"_She's having a_ procedure_ that will take a couple of minutes."_

"_There are always potential complications with anesthesia, especially at her age."_

"_Bullshit. That's not why she wants you there."_

"_She needs me. And we haven't been back. It's not that much to ask."_

"_We need you," he said suddenly. "Think about it, I'm in the middle of a case and I need you at work. Ava's had three breakdowns since she heard you were leaving. Jack's so worried he can barely sleep because he knows the rest of us are all tense. All so you can sit there and act as medical proxy, which you could do just as easily here over the phone. You are letting her manipulate you."_

"_She needed the surgery."_

"_It's not an emergency. She could have spoken to us before scheduling. We could have arranged it so we could all go. We could visit people at home. She drops this on you last minute like it's emergency heart surgery."_

"_I can't control what she does."_

"_But you could have asked her to reschedule. Talked to her. Told her that your two young children need you at home. I'd understand if it was urgent…but it's not."_

"_Are you calling me a bad mother?"_

"_No. I'm merely pointing out that you are easily manipulated by your mother."_

"_You want to go instead? I'll stay here, and you can go deal with her."_

"_Like you could handle my case," he sneered._

"_Like you could handle my mother," she countered._

_Her hand was no longer on his leg, it was balled into a fist. The tranquil moments of alone time before leaving were consumed by arguments._

"_Maybe you just don't trust me," she countered angrily._

"_Maybe I shouldn't trust you," he answered calmly._

"_You can't be serious."_

"_You were the one who brought it up. Must be on your mind."_

_Neither of them even believed the things they were saying anymore, they were going through the verbal motions. "You know what, House," Cuddy said, turning angrily toward him until the cab driver interrupted._

"_Ma'am we're here," the driver said._

_The stopped talking, barely looking at each other. "I guess I have to go now," she practically spat._

"_Looks like," he answered._

"_Bye," she said as she jerked the car door open._

_Before she shut it, he stopped her, rolling his eyes and asking, "Want help with your luggage?"_

"_Don't bother, I'd hate for this trip to inconvenience you any more than it already has," she answered. _

_She took two steps back and then caught his eyes. "I gotta go."_

_The day was a blur for each of them. Cuddy's flight was miserable as she replayed their disagreement in her head. When she arrived at the hospital, her mother was tense and agitated, making demands and criticizing from the moment Cuddy walked into the room. When she had a free minute, Cuddy called home and listened as Ava was near breakdown, and Jack was worried. House was mired in his case and barely had time to talk. _

_After her mother was resting peacefully that night, Cuddy went to their old apartment. The apartment was stale from lack of use and felt horribly large and empty. The last time she was there, it was with her husband and two children. There was still a toddler bed and a crib setup in the rooms for the children. _

_When Cuddy first heard that she would be making the trip, part of her thought she might enjoy a few hours of complete silence. The reality was not something she enjoyed, at least not under those circumstances. She hadn't been so alone for years. There were moments stolen during ordinary days, occasionally times in the early morning, but in the apartment there were no sounds of movement from the next room, or kids talking, no music or banter. The city had never felt so empty._

_In Barbados, House was irritated as the answer to a case was just out of his mind's reach. The entire home was in chaos without Cuddy there. From the time Jack woke up, he sensed his father's bad mood, and Ava and Jack fed off of each other's concern and worry. Early in the morning the day Cuddy was supposed to return home, House was standing in his living room, trying to calm his children enough so that he could return to the hospital and try to solve the case when he had an epiphany. In seconds he realized the patient's problem was an immune overreaction to a seemingly innocuous trigger, just as his family was overreacting to the entire situation._

_House called down to the Center to start treatment even as the children were falling apart behind him. He gathered Jack from a spot in front of the piano where the boy was haphazardly pounding on low notes with his miniature fingers, and then found Ava who was pulling the stuffing out of a toy that was the convenient victim of her wrath while she was screaming at her brother to stop making so much noise. He brought them into the center of the room, where the three of them sat on the floor. They stared at him expectantly, waiting to see what he wanted. When he eventually did look each of them in the eye, he said soothingly, "Everything's OK, guys. Really."_

_They looked suspiciously at him and he repeated. "Everything's fine. I'm sorry, I was really stressed with work and with your mom going to help your grandmother. This whole thing got way out of hand."_

_His words barely registered in their scattered young brains, but their father's mood and tone did impact the children. It was almost like turning the tables as they calmed. "I know you miss her, we all do, she'll be back tonight."_

_That night, Cuddy's plane touched down in Miami and she went to Medford's private jet, which had come in from Barbados to bring her the rest of the way home. After locating her luggage, she grabbed her cell phone from her bag as quickly as possible to call House before she took off again. "Hey," he answered when he picked up almost immediately._

"_I'm sorry for participating in that stupid fight. It wasn't even a good fight. I was tense about Mom and about leaving the kids and I was tired."_

"_Me too, on all of it."_

"_If we're going to argue about stuff…it should be something worth arguing about. This fight was different for some reason…I hated how it made me feel."_

"_This one was personal. Not about biopsies or patients. And then you had to go…so we couldn't get past it. But it was just one argument."_

"_I thought that. And then last night, roaming around that hideously empty apartment, all I could think about was how much just one of something can impact a life. One angry statement, one phone call, one kiss, one pill, one day. Those things can change everything."_

"_One thing won't ruin us," he countered immediately._

"_It has before. Or a series of 'one things' over time. I don't want that one thing to be the start of other 'one things' that snowball to…" he heard her pause as she greeted the pilot of Medford's plane and stepped on board._

_She stood at the front, facing the cockpit door as she dropped her bag onto a seat and stretched after the cramped quarters of her previous flight. "Sorry," she continued, "the start of 'one things' that snowball and move us toward things that are irrevocable. I don't want to go back there…and if we are complacent, we could go right back to where were were…"_

"_Oh, I dunno, we are seldom _complacent_," he said, his voice coming from behind her and echoing in her phone a second later._

_She smiled immediately, although shyly, as he stood from the sofa along the back of the plane and approached her._

"_How are the kids?" she asked._

"_Better," he nodded. "Everything was getting…blown out of proportion."_

"_And your case?"_

"_Fortunately the kids falling apart reminded me of my own overreaction…which actually solved the case. Thank god we had an argument that we didn't need to have or Johnny Smith would be dead."_

"_Emma Fields," she smirked._

_He ignored her correction, "How's your mom?"_

_Cuddy took a deep breath, "Belligerent, ungrateful, and…remarkably healthy. She's doing fine."_

_House nodded, "Good."_

"_She's also…not nearly sedated enough," Cuddy added, "too bad you couldn't come."_

_House laughed at the memory, "There are some things I'm really useful for."_

"_Lots of things," she said softly. "I'm sorry."_

"_Me too. __I baited you. I know you didn't want to go."_

"_And I bit back…harder than I should have. The poor kids were so upset…and then I left."_

"_None of it was a big deal. If we would have had ten minutes to work it out before you left, it wouldn't have even mattered."_

"_I…missed you guys. All of you. So badly. It was so quiet there and lonely…"_

"_Trust me, we are ready to have you back."_

"_I can't believe you came here to ride back with me."_

"_Kate's got the kids."_

"_I'm sure," she said, "I wasn't suggesting that you left them alone or…"_

"_I know!" he said emphatically. "I was just telling you."_

"_It was so weird, being in our old place. With some of our stuff…Jack's room is set up for a baby. He's certainly not a baby anymore! Ava still has toddler books…she'd cry from boredom. Our room…so empty without you there to fill your space. It's so easy to underestimate how pleasantly noisy a family is until they are not there to make the noise."_

_A faint smile curled along House's lips. "Hey folks, we're taking off in two minutes if you're ready," the pilot asked from the door._

"_We're ready," Cuddy said as she settled down on the sofa, buckled herself in, and stretched her legs._

_She watched House click the privacy lock on the cabin door that was probably there to ensure privacy during important business deals, and then he almost spun around. He saw her smug expression and put his free hand out to indicate his innocence. "What?" he said, "I don't want anyone to interrupt us while we're talking."_

"_Talking?"_

"_Yes…talking. Believe me, I like it when you _talk_."_

"_I figured that out all on my own," she said as she patted the cushion next to her. _

_She was facing him, sitting with her feet tucked under her. He sat next to her, facing out toward the cabin before he unhurriedly buckled his seatbelt. She reached out, her fingers coming to rest on his upper arm and he turned to face her, finding her lips almost immediately against his. She was gently persistent, intent on feeling him against her, and when his fingers reached up to her jaw, and slid around to hold the back of her head, he responded to the kiss eagerly. _

_They could feel the jet moving, taxiing toward the runway. Her hand slid across his chest, feeling the quickening of his heart beneath her fingertips, but when she tried to move closer, she found the seatbelt that she had loosely fastened around her waist holding her back. He turned toward her, pulling her shirt off of her with ease after freeing the edges from the seatbelt, and grazed his fingers along the silky skin of her side. He traced his finger up between her breasts, and allowed his fingers to smooth along her collarbone, down the ridges of her ribs until his hand conformed to her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple through the fabric, and feeling it harden at only the slightest urging. _

_Her hand along his lower abdomen was an instant turn on, and as he felt himself becoming more aroused, the constraints of his jeans held in place with his own seatbelt were quickly becoming uncomfortable. As the engine began to rev up in preparation for their takeoff, he removed her bra, bending low to take a nipple in his mouth and listening to the sigh of relief she emitted at the feel of his rough face against her soft breast. Her hands pulled his head closer, unwilling to let him stop sucking and licking at her breast, urging his hands to continue their exploration of her body with her words and sounds, and the way her body was moving toward him in spite of her restraints. They tugged and pulled her jeans down, working them away from her body, and his fingers trailed from the lowest point of her ankle up. _

_The plane began hurdling toward takeoff, and House's need overcame any concern he had for being flung about by turbulence, and he popped his seatbelt open, finding Cuddy's hands immediately searching for the button on his jeans even as she tried to voice her concern for his lack of safety. He was disrobing as fast as he could, bracing himself on the floor between her knees as the plane ascended to keep his balance. He tried to pull her forward as he licked slowly up her thigh, but the seatbelt dug into the skin of her upper stomach as she tried to move farther down. "Get up here," she demanded in a way that made his pulse quicken with anticipation. _

_His hands moved along her thighs as he impatiently sought her sex, her own hands reaching out to surround his arousal. Her fingers stroked gently around him with a teasing promise, and she saw the pleading in his eyes as her touch only fueled a need that had been building in him for too long. They vaguely comprehended that the jet was in the air, continuing toward cruising altitudes, but neither of them really cared. Her touch became firmer, more resolute, and his breath quickened to a near pant. She moved forward again, forgetting that she was strapped to the seat and finally murmuring, "Goddamnit," as she released the buckle that held her in place. She pushed him back down onto the sofa but it was too narrow and far too short to be comfortable, so she slipped onto the floor and pulled him down with her. "How much do you want me?" she asked._

"_More than you think is even possible," he answered without reservation._

"_We cannot fuck this up," she said, winding her legs high around his waist and urging him with needy moves of her hips to continue._

"_We won't," he answered just before he lunged roughly into her, wanting her to feel the desperation behind his need. _

_She gasped and sighed loudly, feeling physical and emotional reassurance at his presence as well as his involvement in an act that had always been as symbolic as it was pleasurable for them. One of his hands slid up her back, his fingers grabbing onto her shoulder to pull her closer to him, the other hand on the rough carpeted floor of the plane for balance. Had Cuddy been paying attention to anything but the feeling of his body against hers, the retreating and approaching feeling of him inside her, she would have worried that they'd be heard, even though the sound of the engine easily drowned out their cries. She heard fractured, stuttered pieces of admirations emerging from deep within him. "I'm so close," she said through a deeper moan as her voice got lower, raspier and more desperate, and then she said as she approached bliss, "Right there, please don't stop now," as she lost any semblance of control. _

_He was listening while she loudly voiced her approval in moans and gasps and words that he couldn't even really understand, but loved the sound of as they echoed in his head, and the little control he felt he had in that situation was eradicated._

_He dropped heavily on her after he came for what felt like much longer than possible while time stood still, and he barely comprehended that he should roll to the side. When he did, his head hit the chair behind him roughly. Almost as a formality, he said "Ow," but he said it with such disinterest that she was unsure if it didn't hurt or if he was too relaxed to sense pain._

_Cuddy giggled when the intercom broke through the consistent hum of the engine, and accompanied by static, the pilot said, "Feel free to move around back there folks, if you need something, hit the bell."_

_She quickly got dressed, mostly because the carpet on the floor hurt against her skin, and she was relatively certain she'd have rug burn on the areas that weren't protected by his arm. He was lolling on the ground, still naked, still only half conscious. She crawled over to him, sitting near his head, and kissed his cheek and lips muttered, "I know one thing won't mess us up…sometimes I think we just need to reconfirm that theory."_

"_Agreed," he muttered as she handed him his clothes and watched him dress. _

"_You're even sexy putting clothes on."_

"_Reverse stripper school. They used to pay me to put them back on."_

"_Lies," she said as she stood to lead them back to the sofa. _

_As they could see the island approaching, she couldn't wait to be home._

* * *

The next few days were a blur of preparations for the trip, and tying up loose ends. Mike finished his treatment, said his goodbyes, and was off with Frank for a bone marrow transplant. Blythe changed her flight and went with the men to the hospital.

The night before they were supposed to leave, the children were finally in bed and asleep after spending much of the evening redefining 'childlike enthusiasm.' As Cuddy set the alarm, she thought that after all of the disruptions from the outside that found the family in Barbados, suddenly going back to Philly and Princeton didn't seem too bad.


	16. Ghosts

_A/N-Thanks to all of the readers and favoriters/followers of this story, and thanks to all of the reviewers since the last segment: IHeartHouseCuddy, KiwiClare, JLCH, TDCSI, partypantscuddy, housebound, Truth, hfspc, Josam, Suzieqlondon, IWuvHouse, jaybe61, ClareBear14, LiaHuddy, BJAllen815, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, LoveMyHouse, MsStevieCooper, Guest, 6cbrilhante, Bakerstreet Blues and Victoria. (In response to a few questions, this story isn't ending just yet. I'll warn you when we get close to the end.)  
_

_Sorry this is late...Have a great weekend!  
_

* * *

When the alarm went off at three-thirty in the morning, there was an immediate flurry of activity. Although she tried to snuff out the alarm before the children heard it, Cuddy was unsuccessful, and within moments Jack and Ava were standing in their parents' bedroom, shaky, wide-eyed and excited to take their trip. Cuddy had everything organized and ready to go. After the first two experiences of traveling with two young children, Cuddy allowed the fullness of her organizational talents to come to the forefront. There were lists, specific bags for specific items, and a timeline. After the disaster of the last time they tried to get away without careful planning, there was little criticism from anyone else when she organized the next trip, and all subsequent trips, more completely.

They had a drill. House made sure the kids were dressed, grabbed their backpacks with a snack and a drink, and took care of all of their basic needs before they left. Cuddy went through her checklist, made sure everything was ready, and tied up all of the loose ends on the list. Celia showed up at their doorstep a few minutes later. She was traveling along to visit her own family.

The next thing everyone knew, they were on Medford's private jet to Miami, and from there, on to a commercial flight from Miami to Newark. They were going to spend the first few days in Princeton with Wilson before making their trip to Philadelphia. The flight was long for two excited and slightly travel-grumpy children, but the moment they landed the mood changed. After waiting impatiently in the aisles to get off of the plane, they made dashes for the bathrooms and agreed to meet by the baggage claim.

House and Jack stood next to the baggage carousel as House tried to call Wilson, who wasn't answering his cell phone. Jack turned, it seemed he heard something that got his attention. House heard his name being repeatedly called, the volume growing louder as the caller came closer. He turned as he heard a familiar voice say, "The rumors are actually true. I can't believe the rumors are true."

Standing there, looking him over with some shock and confusion was Cameron. "Is this _your_ son?" she asked, with a friendly expression, pointing down at Jack.

Cameron was still blond, only the slightest bit fuller in figure, and smiling pleasantly at her former employer as if the last words she had spoken to him were not an accusatory and bitter farewell. House nodded, as confused and shocked as Cameron was, and she stooped down, sitting on her haunches to look at the boy. "I…never thought you would come to exist," she said, demurely extending her hand.

"I exist," Jack said defiantly, refusing to shake her hand.

"He's definitely yours," Cameron said with a giggle, looking up at House after noting the displeased look on the boy's face that she had so often seen from his father. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I meant, that I never thought your dad would have any kids. I'm really glad he did. It's great to meet you."

Jack's displeasure faded slightly and he reached his hand out and cautiously shook her hand.

"I'm Allison," she said.

"Jack," the boy answered.

Cameron stood in front of House and said, looking him over, "You look fantastic…healthy. I can't believe you look this good. Life is better for you?"

House barely nodded. He still hadn't said a word.

"So…" Cameron continued, "I was convinced that Chase and Wilson were trying to play some sort of prank on me. They said you were coming. _And_ they said you were married and had kids. I mean…I've heard rumors from time to time. You know how it is, _they_ say things."

House nodded again, "This time…_they_ are right."

"Except they've all tried to convince me that you married _Cuddy_," she said, giggling awkwardly.

"What's wrong with Cuddy?" Jack retorted. "You don't like my mom?"

"Oh, no, it's not that," Cameron said, "Your mom…is Cuddy?"

"Yea," he said proudly.

"That's…crazy," Cameron said.

Jack looked up, his face wrinkled up in irritation. "Why doesn't she like Mom?" Jack asked House as if Cameron wasn't standing right in front of them.

Cameron stooped back down, "Oh, I do…I like your mom. I just never thought that…your mom and dad would get married…or…speak civilly…voluntarily sit in the same room…"

Cameron was trying to joke but the boy didn't seem to have a sense of humor about it at all. Ava hurried over to tell Jack something and looked at Cameron. "Who are you?" Ava asked suspiciously.

"I'm Allison, I used to work for your dad."

"Oh," Ava said disinterestedly.

"He used to call me Cameron though," she said as if she expected the children would recognize the name.

They continued to look at her. "She doesn't like Mom," Jack said with a loud whisper.

"That's not true," Cameron responded, quickly extending a hand to Ava. "What's your name?"

"Ava," the girl answered.

"It's great to meet you guys."

Cuddy caught up, and tried to turn her surprise into a smile. Her eyes were wide and she was clearly searching for words. "Dr. Cameron…it's…nice to see you."

"Sorry…this is awkward," Cameron offered.

"No, no it's not. It's fine. I just didn't expect to see you."

"Where's Wilson?" House asked.

"He had an emergency. A patient. A kid. I was getting some lunch with him when he got a call."

"You're back?" Cuddy asked.

"I'm interviewing. I'm…interesting in coming back. And then Wilson said he was picking up House and his family…and I offered…I thought maybe it was a joke. I half expected to show up and find House with a couple of hookers," Cameron laughed awkwardly. "That was…a joke…"

Ava scowled, "Look, lady," the girl said with irritation before Cuddy interrupted.

"How about we go?" Cuddy suggested.

"Great," Cameron said awkwardly, "I'll take you guys down to the hospital so you can meet up with Wilson.

Celia finally joined them and looked Cameron over, "James…you finally went for that sex change."

House faintly smiled at Celia and she added, "In all honesty…he doesn't really look _all_ that different."

Celia leaned forward toward Cameron, "Sorry, honey. I work for them, it doesn't really do much good to get a joke in on James if he's not around to hear it."

"I'll be sure to let him know," Cameron answered.

They stopped to eat at a diner near the airport. Once Cameron relaxed, she got along remarkably well with Jack and Celia. Cuddy seemed slightly on edge, but as time progressed, even she seemed to enjoy catching up with House's former fellow. House was mostly quiet through dinner. Ava seemed suspicious of Cameron, but much like her father, she was suspicious of most people.

Cameron was living and working in Chicago, had a family of her own, and they were interested in moving back to New Jersey. She updated them on her life, and listened with interested and awe as she heard a few of the details of what her former employers' lives had become.

As they made the drive to the hospital, Jack happily chatting with Cameron, House and Cuddy were both trying to absorb the strange feeling of being in a place so familiar, yet so foreign. They were riding along streets they'd been on thousands of times before in earlier incarnations. Some of the trips along those streets were filled with anger, sadness and pain. A few drives were filled with hope and happiness, but those trips seemed rare, at least in their earlier days. They stopped along the way and pointed at House's old apartment, they even went by Cuddy's old place, which was both awkward, and for some reason, for them, quite necessary. They viewed their pasts like crime scene photographs, whispering occasional facts and revelations to the children who seemed far too excited to learn about everything from their parents' former lives.

Ava recognized the hospital, she even had a few memories of being there years earlier. They all got out of the van, and began walking toward the hospital when Cameron said to House, "You have _really_ changed."

House stopped Cameron and pulled her back toward him. "Why does that sound like an accusation?"

"It is…I guess…maybe."

The two of them had so much past between them, built over relatively few years. Their interactions dropped suddenly the first time she quit after Chase was fired, and then completely a few years later on the day she said goodbye. They had never exchanged words since that final goodbye. There were times during their mutual past when things seemed they could have been different between them as crushes came and went, and moments where friendship seemed possible always quickly flitted away, but there were moments of true compassion. They had also each exchanged heated words, jokes that were funny and jokes that were bitter, but regardless of what those years were, much had occurred between them.

He leaned close, making sure that he had her complete attention. "So what…you're…irritated that you think I _changed_…or you're irritated that _you_ weren't there to change me?"

Cameron was stunned at the sudden shift in atmosphere, "House…I…I didn't want to change you."

"Bullshit," he answered calmly.

"You are really different."

"I'm really not. I just don't have to be constantly guarded…I don't have to protect myself every second of every day…"

"I am happy for you, really…it's just…I guess I didn't expect to see you like this. You seem like you might be almost…happy."

"And that's a problem for you?" he asked without malice.

"I just…" she began, and he could see the look in her eye, the small ember of love that still existed within her after all of those years. "I really am happy that you are doing well," she finally said.

"Cameron…no matter what you think about who I am…or how you think I might have changed, I'm not going to apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

"For…teaching all of you to think for yourselves. For who I am. For who Chase became. For…anything."

"You think I expect you to apologize?"

"You accused me of…essentially killing Chase. Of killing who Chase was."

"Because Chase wasn't…himself anymore when I left him. I was hurt…and worried."

"What you failed to see…is that Chase was a man who had the strength of his convictions. Yea, sometimes, there's a price to pay for that. But no matter what, whether I think his decisions or his actions were right or wrong, I respected him for making them."

"You're…still angry at me for leaving _him_. Or angry at me for leaving _you_?"

"Neither. I'm glad you went."

"Oh, that's nice. Very mature," she huffed. "There you are. I should have known you were still in there. Still…bitter?"

"I'm not," he said evenly. "You don't get it…if I respected Chase for standing up. For…doing what he thought was right…why wouldn't I respect your decision to do what you thought was right?"

She shook her head, "So when I said all of that stuff…you…respected me for it?"

He nodded. "I mean…you were wrong. But…you stood up for what you believed. Believed it…so much that you threw away everything. That's conviction."

"Are you offering backhanded compliments?"

"No, it's not backhanded. Isn't that what I tried to teach you. To have opinions, to defend them…"

"I am…honestly happy to see that you are not…trapped somewhere in solitary misery. I really am. Your children…are beautiful…and amazing…and I don't know how it is possible that you and Cuddy haven't ended in complete fiery destruction and disaster…but…apparently something there is working for you. I have always wanted to see you _not_ alone…not miserable. And sure, it's true…for quite some time I thought I could help you get to a better place in life. And if you would have tried…maybe we could have."

House looked away from her and she grabbed his forearm until he returned his gaze, "But I'm glad it didn't happen that way. Because I like where I am. And who I am. And who I'm with. I didn't have to…convince my husband to love me. He just does. And before you make any snide comments…he wasn't dying or damaged…well…at least not…as damaged as you."

"Yea 'cause…that's insanely damaged," House answered sarcastically.

Cameron smiled sadly, "It is, House. Or it was. I don't know which yet. You seem good though," she said as she pushed past him to walk toward the building. After a few steps, Cameron stopped and turned back, "I was wrong about one thing, I admit that. I was wrong…when I said there was no way out for you."

Cameron practically sprinted toward the door. When House made it to the lobby, everyone was standing inside waiting for them. When they got off of the elevator, the kids ran forward toward Wilson's office after getting directions from Cuddy. Celia was chatting with friends she had met when she worked there years earlier.

"Simpson still in charge?" Cuddy asked Cameron.

"Wilson told me Simpson passed away almost three years ago. I interviewed with the new dean, Becker. She was an assistant over at…"

"Penn," House finished. "I remember Becker."

Becker was the assistant dean at Penn when House and Cuddy consulted there years earlier, and their relationship with her was tense to say the least. When they reached Wilson's office, the kids were inside greeting him. "This place still doesn't feel normal without the two of you," Wilson said the second they walked through the door.

Wilson hugged Cuddy and kissed her cheek, and then looked at House. "I'd hug you, but then you start hoping for more…" Wilson said to his old friend.

"You know you want this…you just never want to cuddle afterward and you know how that hurts my feelings."

"Look, guys, I have stuff I have to finish up here," Wilson said apologetically.

House pulled Wilson aside, "Can we borrow your car? There's something we need to do while you finish up. We can meet up with you later."

Wilson nodded and patted House's arm.

* * *

_**-Baltimore-Two months before Rachel's death-**_

"_I miss Grandma," Rachel said while they sat in a restaurant and she poked at her Chinese food. _

_Rachel had a fork in one hand, and one chopstick in the other._

"_I know, Baby. We'll have her come visit soon," Cuddy said as she easily plucked a piece of broccoli from her plate with her chopsticks.  
_

"_We can go see her," Rachel suggested._

"_Let's just…let her come see us. OK?"_

"_I miss Aunt Julia…and Eddie and the girls."_

"_I know."_

"_Why's it just us here?"_

"_I know it feels that way, Rachel, but…we'll meet some new friends. And I promise, we'll see Grandma and everyone really soon. Eat that before it gets cold," Cuddy said, pointing at Rachel's dish._

_Rachel poked at her lo mein noodles. "I have an idea."_

"_What's that?"_

"_I think we should adopt another kid."_

"_Do you?" Cuddy asked with a tiny smile._

"_Or…you could get married and have a baby. I could have a brother. Or a sister. Or both! Grandma said it's not too late for you to settle down."_

"_Your Grandma's crazy," Cuddy laughed._

"_You don't have to go back with Matthew. There's other guys."_

"_Rachel, I really don't feel like dating right now."_

"_Don't you want more kids?"_

"_Sweetie, there's no way I'm going to have a baby. That time has long since passed. And…as far as adopting. I don't know. I'm happy with how things are…with us."_

"_It would be nice for us," Rachel said, "We could have a bigger family. We wouldn't be so alone."_

"_I don't feel alone," Cuddy said, leaning down over the table toward her daughter. "I like us just the way we are. Just you and me."_

_Rachel smiled, "You do?"_

"_Yes…I do. Just the two of us. I could never feel lonely as long as I have you."_

"_What about when I get big. Go to college. Won't you be lonely then?"_

"_Yes, that's possible. But for now, I'm just going to enjoy every minute I have with you. I have at least twelve or thirteen more years until you move out. Don't rush me," Cuddy answered with a smile._

* * *

Cuddy clenched Ava and Jack's hands tightly as they walked back down to the garage, House limping closely behind them. It was in moments like that when Cuddy knew that she had to hold onto her children with everything that she had, because life truly had no guarantees. They all knew where they were going without a word spoken between them. The children's excitement and jitteriness faded into near reverence as they walked supportively next to their mother.


	17. What Ifs

_A/N-Hello all, thanks to everyone who took the time to leave me their thoughts: redsox15, Sam, Jane Q. Doe, JLCH, aussiefan12, LapizSilkwood, ammeboss, IHeartHouseCuddy, Truth, TheHouseWitch, IWuvHouse, Bakerstreet Blues, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl21, housebound, Abby, Alex, CaptainK8, Huddygirl, Guest, LoveMyHouse, ClareBear14, Mon Fogel, OldSFfan, BJAllen815, Josam, bladesmum, and partypantscuddy.  
_

* * *

Cuddy was determined to make their trip to the cemetery as pleasant as possible. In fact, she tried to make all discussions of Rachel pleasant. For Rachel's birthday, they'd have a small celebration with cake and candles they'd all blow out together. The stories she told were rarely about her daughter's death and almost never about the subsequent loneliness. It wasn't so much that Cuddy wanted to hide her pain from her children, she did tell them that losing Rachel was the most difficult thing she had ever endured, but she wanted them to associate happy memories with their older sister.

After parking Wilson's car along the side of one of the winding access roads, the family walked up the hillside toward Rachel's grave marker. Cuddy sat down, leaning back against the marker as she used to do so often in the days immediately following Rachel's passing. There was something oddly comforting about the sensation of the cold stone against her back. House sat next to her, the kids finding space close to their parents to sit cross-legged on the ground. "Did she like being the only kid?" Jack asked thoughtfully.

Cuddy shook her head, "She wanted other kids to hang out with. She would have been a _great_ big sister."

"So why didn't you have other kids?" Jack added.

"Well…your dad and I weren't really together for very long back when Rachel was around, and I thought about it occasionally, but…Rachel and I were doing fine on our own. The time never seemed right. After your dad and I got back together, we met Ava and both completely fell for her. She was…so adorable. Ava…you took a home with three adults, since we still lived with Aunt Kate then, and you turned the whole place on its side. This little tiny two year-old changed so much. And Jack…when we found out we were having you…everything got turned on its head again. I didn't think I could carry a baby…and suddenly there you were. Talk about an exciting surprise. So we went from having no kids, to having the two of you almost overnight. And Rachel…I had given up on the chance of having a family, and then she came into my life. I was lucky enough to find her, to be able to adopt her, give her a home. So all three of you were big surprises."

"Who's your favorite?" Jack asked, blinking innocently.

Cuddy laughed. House and Ava spoke at almost exactly the same time.

"She'll never tell," Ava said.

"That's easy, I'm her favorite," House retorted.

Jack pushed his father's arm, "_You_ can't be her favorite, you aren't her kid."

"You didn't say favorite _kid_," House responded.

"You knew what I meant. She knew what I meant too," Jack countered.

"Tell them, Cuddy, tell them I'm your favorite," House teased.

"Actually," Cuddy began, "You are my favorite…husband."

"Out of all of them…you keep a chart?"

"Of course! Otherwise I might forget the standings."

"Am I always at the top?"

"Usually," Cuddy scowled playfully, "but with the seven backup husbands just waiting in the wings, you can't take your favored position for granted."

House smirked, prepared to make an innuendo-filled comment, and realized that his children were staring at him. "We'll continue this conversation later on," he sneered and then winked in her direction.

"So, who _is _your favorite?" Jack pressed.

"I _really_ don't have one. You are all so unique it isn't even something you can compare," Cuddy said.

She knew the children were watching her for signs that she was lying, and she knew they wouldn't find any indication of that.

Once the kids seemed satisfied that she was telling the truth, Cuddy told stories about Rachel's new bike, about the picture Rachel had of House, and about the things they did, each happy little anecdotes and thoughts about the girl's life. Her family listened with interest, House leaning back and absorbing the sound of Cuddy's voice and the children's questions into his memory. Jack was walking lightly, almost dancing between the grave markers while Ava sat cross-legged on the ground, elbows on knees, staring at her mother.

"She had this violin," Cuddy was saying, "and little cheap violins are not the most pleasant instruments when played by the most talented of hands, but when a little kid who has not practiced…"

Cuddy stopped talking and watched as Ava stood and came closer, kneeling on the ground directly at her mother's side. Almost on cue, Jack came to Cuddy's side too, and sat on her knee. "We know that you love us," Ava said assertively.

"Of course I do," Cuddy replied, "Is something wrong?"

"I know that…if you are sometimes sad about Rachel…it doesn't mean you love us less, or that you love her more. It only means you miss her."

"Ava…" Cuddy began stoically, but her eyes were already beginning to water.

"I miss her," Ava said. "I miss her when we go to the beach, and when Jack and I have camp-outs in the living room."

"Me too," Jack added. "And I miss her when we go on bike rides or to the park, and a lot when Ava beats me up, 'cause if I had a bigger sister, maybe she'd pick on Ava."

Cuddy tried to hide her smirk. "I'm sure Ava doesn't _beat you up_."

"She picks on me!" Jack defended.

"Shut up. I miss her when I want someone to talk to who isn't a whiny, tattling little brother," Ava countered, the sweet sentiment soon hidden beneath sibling rivalries.

"No, you shut up," Jack demanded.

"Guys," House warned, "Come on…"

Ava and Jack looked at each other and cringed a bit before Ava continued, "It would be so fun to bring her on field trips. I would even share my room. That's how much I wish she was still with us."

"And I would share all of my toys with her, anything. I miss her so much that I wouldn't mind if the girls outnumbered the boys."

"You guys, are so sweet," Cuddy said, deeply touched by their unprovoked declarations.

"We miss her all of the time and we never even met her. Not for real. Sometimes, we're sad about it. And we usually don't tell you that, because we don't want to make you sad," Ava said.

Cuddy looked up, "You felt like you had to hide that from me?"

"We don't like making you sad," Ava shrugged calmly. "But see, I realized that…we try to play it calm around you, and I think you try to keep it together around us. And that's stupid. We're really honest about everything. Why aren't we honest about this?"

"It's not dishonest," Cuddy replied, "It's just…I don't want talking about her to make you sad. She made me…really happy. I don't want you to associate her name with sadness."

"We don't," Jack answered quickly.

"You guys are…really tough," Cuddy explained, "I mean…you are both…really amazing people. But you are kids…and you should be allowed to be kids without always feeling like you have to be able to handle everything like adults."

Ava tightly pursed her lips in thought and then stuck the back of her hand against her forehead, whining dramatically, "I know…I know…the horror of growing up under your roof where we are never allowed to play!" The girl dropped onto the ground, continuing her display of drama, with a brief pause to grab Jack's wrist, whisper, "I said 'horror,' Jack," and then she pull him onto the ground.

Jack mirrored his sister's over-dramatized behavior, whining about the 'difficulties' of their childhood. Cuddy looked over at House, who smiled at the display, then dramatically placed the back of his hand on his own forehead, and said with a completely expressionless voice, "The horror…I feel it too."

"Fine, smart asses," Cuddy said, grabbing Ava's foot and pulling her over.

Ava looked at her mom and they exchanged somber smiles. Ava scooted up next to Cuddy, sitting against her on the ground while Cuddy draped her arm over the girl's shoulders. "I'm so glad I have all of you. Before I went to go find your dad again…I was really lonely. I was so sad after Rachel died. At first I was sad…and then…I felt like I disappeared. Like…when you are really, really tired, and you just try to keep going because you have to, but you aren't really _there._ Rachel was…my whole world. When we moved away, I went from being responsible for a whole hospital and working constantly, to working in the clinics in Baltimore. I ended up running them, but…I took a simpler position just to spend time with her. And we got in arguments sometimes, but we were family. We loved each other so much. The day she died, my life felt like it ended. In a way, I guess it did. That whole piece of my life was over. I'm really happy with what I have…I couldn't love you guys any more than I do. But sometimes I wish she could be a part of it too. I wish that my life from before could be part of this life."

"Would she be a painter, like me, or would she like stars, like Ava?" Jack asked.

"She really loved music and gymnastics. She wanted to start gymnastics so badly, and…I wouldn't let her. But, I probably would have at some point…I probably would now."

"Why didn't you let her?" Ava asked.

"I was scared she'd get hurt. It's tough, when you have kids, because you love them so much, and you want to protect them from _everything_…and then, at the same time, you want them to enjoy their lives. So much about being a parent is trying to find a healthy balance."

"But you think you'd let her do it now?" Ava continued.

"Yes," Cuddy nodded. "I tried so hard to protect her, and she died doing something she _had _to do. Going to school. You can't protect your family from everything, no matter how much you may want to. You are probably lucky that your dad's around…because if it was just me, I'd have you each bubble wrapped and kept in a padded room."

Jack's eyes were wide with concern until Cuddy said, "I'm kidding…But I _would_ be a lot more cautious."

The children asked questions about their parents' earlier lives, and about Rachel. Some of the stories they had heard before, and some were new. Some of the stories were pleasant reminders of the past, and some were melancholy thoughts of things that could have been.

As the sun began to set, everyone was yawning after a long day of travel, so they decided it was time to go find Wilson. When they stood, Jack took a tightly folded piece of paper from his small pants pocket and walked over to the grave marker. He and Ava studied it for a while, and then found the hiding spot they wanted. She lifted a metal vase that could be turned upside down and hidden in the ground, or left facing up so it could be used for flowers. Ava pulled the vase out of the ground and watched while Jack shoved the piece of paper into the empty space. After Ava replaced the vase, Jack was satisfied and nodded at her.

When the kids jogged down the hill to their parents, Cuddy asked, "Do you want to tell me what that was, or is it a secret?"

"It was a letter. Ava and me wrote it," Jack said, looking around the cemetery.

Cuddy smiled as they walked to the car.

* * *

_**-Two weeks after the Clinic opened-**_

_House was staring out into the backyard, watching the children play when Cuddy found him._

"_You alright?" she asked._

"_Yea, just…" House looked around for a second and seemed to catch himself, "It's interesting to watch them when they don't know you are watching them."_

"_That is true," Cuddy responded, "but that's not why you are looking at them."_

"_No," House confessed, "it isn't."_

"_You want to tell me?"_

"_Nope"_

"_I wish you would," Cuddy shrugged, trying to not allow her feelings to be hurt by his silence. She started to leave the room and stopped, "I'm not pushing…or maybe I am. You have been really preoccupied. I'd like to know why, so if you decide you are ready, I'm here to listen."_

_House stared ahead as she left the room. "Hey," he shouted down the hall at her._

_She came back into the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, waiting._

"_How do you do it?" he asked.  
_

"_Do what?"_

"_Stop worrying for ten seconds."_

"_I don't know. I put trust in you, I take precautions to prevent the things that can be prevented, and I try to…remind myself that…I have to let go and let life carry on. Why?"_

"_Since those idiots cornered you in the clinic," House began, "I…keep trying to…see anything that could happen. Once I opened that…I started wondering…What if…some freak is eying up one of our kids? What if there's a symptom I'm missing that I should be seeing in one of us? What if there is an accident just waiting to happen…something I could prevent, and I don't?"_

"_Those worries are always there for me. And I try to remember that I can't prevent everything. That I can't protect them from everything. That all of the things I worry about so very rarely actually happen."_

_He nodded._

"_House…you were the one who taught me that…it usually seems to come so easily for you," she continued.  
_

"_I know," he shook his head, "That's what I don't get. My mind…keeps looping on trusting my instincts to the point that I'm not even sure which things are my instincts and which things are baseless worry."_

_Cuddy chuckled with understanding, "That makes a hell of a lot of sense to me."_

"_I want to go back to the way things are supposed to be. How do I do that?"_

"_You give it time," Cuddy answered. "A lot has happened. When things calm down, you'll be able to hear your instincts again. There's too much…static right now…too much…mental interference."_

"_What if it doesn't go back to the way it was? I really don't know how you do it, Cuddy. I can't take this."_

"_House, I think you'll always have a little more worry than you used to. Kids do that. But it will go back to something more like normal soon. Probably as soon as you stop worrying."_

"_How do you know?"_

"_Because that's you. The worrying, the foreseeing…that's not your default. You helped me to tone it down, but it's still there for me. You can't kill it…really, we probably don't want to. And you can't kill your reliance on observations and instincts. Give yourself a chance…it'll get back to normal."_

"_Fuck, Cuddy…" House said pensively, "This shit is tiring."_

_She chuckled, "Damn right it is."_

* * *

Wilson called while they were at the cemetery and told them that he found a ride home from the hospital when his day was over. When they got back to Wilson's house, Adam ran out the door to see his friends. It had been almost a year since the three children were together in person, although with the help of technology, they often communicated. Adam was between the children's ages, around a year older than Jack, two years younger than Ava , but already as tall as she was. Adam had kind eyes, an outgoing disposition, and was almost constantly in motion. When Adam was three, he said he was going to grow up and marry Cuddy, and the crush never really faded entirely. When Adam originally made his proclamation of love, House casually whispered to Wilson, "You know when he turns eighteen, I'll have to kill him, right?"

At the time, Wilson nodded, joking, "Of course. There's no _other_ way to prevent him from carrying off your wife."

The kids stood, loudly chattering in the living room next to their parents, who listened while the noise faded when the kids disappeared down the hall.

Wilson's home was simply amazing. It looked like the home of a pharmaceutical executive and the head of an oncology department. The dwelling itself was large, well furnished, and as it was in years past, filled with all of the toys and extras. House and Cuddy's home in Barbados was definitely nice, and well furnished, but it certainly wasn't anything like the sprawling estate of their friends.

Cuddy went to their rooms to organize the kids' clothing and settle in, while Wilson and House went on their own to the den. They spoke for a few moments, updating each other on changes in their lives, and then House asked, "What was with the Cameron ambush?"

"She wanted to see you," Wilson said, "Did you…not want to see her?"

"It was weird."

"Was Cuddy actually…upset?" Wilson asked with confusion.

"Surprised. Definitely surprised, and probably a little irritated. It was fine, just…weird."

"I didn't think you'd mind and…I didn't have a lot of choices. I almost lost a patient. A kid. I couldn't leave…Cameron was having lunch with me when I got the call, and she was more than willing to help."

"Too bad about the kid. He OK now?"

"Yea, well…a bad reaction to chemo's the least of his problems. I don't foresee a medical miracle here. His parents…don't want to give up. Neither does he. So, we're trying." Wilson sighed, rubbing his face. He looked tired and weary, "House, sometimes, I think you guys had it right…running away, starting somewhere new."

"I am completely convinced we have it right, but even there, patients still die."

Wilson dropped into his chair and rubbed his face tiredly.

"You OK?" House asked.

"I'm tired," Wilson said quietly. "This kid who's sick…it sucks."

House nodded, "Are you sure that's it?"

"Sometimes things get to be too much. I wonder if we should have followed you when you left years ago. It seemed so absurd to me at the time, two successful doctors, fleeing the country, but look at you guys. You all seem so…good. Sometimes…I want to get away from all of…this."

"Even there…life finds you. My nine-hundred year-old father did."

"Right," Wilson laughed, "Which one?"

"The one who shares an actual genetic bond with me."

Wilson's mouth dropped open, "You're serious?"

"I am."

"And…what did you think? What was he like? Did it…answer some questions?"

"I didn't really think much of anything. It didn't really change much, just…provided a slap of reality to any fantasy that may have remained about him. I guess it provided some clarity."

"Are you gonna see him again?"

"If he sends roses," House joked before answering seriously, "If he comes by, I'll talk to him."

"You seem so…unchanged by it. You've wanted to know who this is for a really long time. Maybe you just haven't absorbed it all yet."

"Oh, I absorbed," House nodded. "It just…doesn't matter all that much."

"Does your mom know that you met him?"

"She's with him now…sitting in a hospital somewhere while his grandson gets a bone marrow transplant."

"Seriously?"

"Yup"

"Are they…a couple…or?"

"Mom says they are good friends. And there is no reason in the entire world I would want to think that it's anything different."

"Did he fly in?" Wilson asked with a sincere look on his face.

"I'm sure," House answered testily.

"I was just curious if Satan was on the Do Not Fly list…and whether or not they let him bring the pitchfork on the plane."

House smirked as the kids thundered into the room and walked up to Wilson. All three kids were standing in front of him.

"Hey, Dad," Adam said, "Can we watch a movie?"

"It's late, but it's not every day you guys get to see each other, so why not. I'll put it on as soon as you pick one," Wilson answered.

"How've you been, Uncle Wilson?" Ava asked.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. How about you?" Wilson responded.

"Oh, I'm good," Ava answered. "Is there anything new?"

"No, nothing really. Same old stuff."

Ava nodded, "I want to see Aunt Ann. Will she be here soon?"

"Yea, soon," Wilson answered.

"Where is she?" Jack asked.

"Work, little man. She's working," Wilson replied.

"You excited we're all here?" Jack asked.

"Definitely," Wilson answered.

"How's your work, any interesting cases?" Ava asked.

"Interesting? No. Cancer sucks. That's not new…or interesting," Wilson sighed with a friendly but tired smile.

Jack and Ava nodded at each other and at Adam, and then started to walk away, "We'll pick a movie and come right back," Ava said.

"OK, great," Wilson said while the kids ran from the room. "Do you ever get used to the Grand Inquisition?" Wilson asked House, who was staring off in the direction his children went while he considered the previous exchange. "House?" Wilson asked loudly to get his friend's attention.

"Huh?"

"You OK?"

"Yea," House answered, still looking off into the distance. "Why do they need your help to put on a movie?"

"Home theater, my friend," Wilson said, nodding toward a room in the back. "Home. Theater."


	18. Mysteries

_A/N-thanks to this chapter's reviewers: JLCH, Bakerstreet Blues, IHeartHouseCuddy, CaptainK8, OldSFfan, dmarchl21, IWuvHouse, aussiefan12, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, ClareBear14, jkarr, Josam, Truth, Suzieqlondon, 6cbrilhante, jaybe61, southpaw2, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, Mon Fogel and Guest._

_No flashback in this one, because the chapter was too long. The flashback was pushed to the next chapter… it's mostly lovey-smutty stuff, for those who like that sorta thing, or don't, it's in the next one._

* * *

After the kids were asleep, House went to the guest room at Wilson's place and found Cuddy already resting. He climbed into bed, moving closer to feel the warmth of her along his side, wondering if he could even sleep without that feeling anymore. His mind kept replaying his children's discussion with Wilson, suddenly distracted by the need to know what was going on with his friend.

"What's wrong?" Cuddy asked sleepily.

"Nothing, go to sleep."

She flipped over to face him, sliding one arm onto his chest. He watched as she examined his face, and then she smiled a brief flash of a perfunctory smile and nodded, "If you want to tell me, let me know."

Without any further hesitation she wiggled closer, her leg tightening around him, and she nestled in to return to sleep. The even waves of her body as she breathed rhythmically next to him were almost enough to lure him to sleep as well, but he started to fixate on the smallest gesture. The woman was barely awake, in fact he was pretty certain she was asleep, or a breath or two away from complete sleep, but the way her hand rested easily on his chest was distracting. Her fingers were just slightly bent but her palm rested solidly against him while her thumb rubbed softly against his tee shirt between his heart and collar bone. It was subtly comforting. It occurred to him that she knew that he was hiding something, likely she knew he lied when he said nothing was wrong, but there was no fight, no withholding of affection.

He put his hand over her wrist, holding her hand in place on his chest and he nudged her forehead with his cheek, "Cuddy?"

"Hmmm?" she sighed.

"You do know my tell, don't you?"

She pulled her hand back from him, scratching along her cheekbone before slipping it back under his hand against his chest in the same position where it was moments earlier. "The kids didn't tell me," she yawned, "and I promise I don't know of a specific tell. Honestly, I thought maybe they were just messing with you."

He rested his head deeper into the pillow, but couldn't get comfortable. She jerked back when he sat up abruptly and her human pillow was suddenly gone. "I promise, House, I don't know your tell," she whined. "Ask them."

"Then how do you know when I lie? And don't lie…I know when you know."

She smiled, facing him, sitting cross-legged by his side, "I don't know."

"But you _do_ know when I lie?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I know when you lie. I mean, you don't really lie about big stuff…you say you are fine when you aren't, or you sometimes hide stuff until you figure out how you feel…but you usually end up telling me anyway, I just…let you get there on your own unless I think it's something really troubling."

"But you _can _tell."

"Yea," she nodded and shrugged. "I've known you a long time."

"OK," he agreed, "I believe that, but _how_ can you tell. Because whatever I do that allows you to know that I'm lying is my tell."

"I understand that."

"So…what is it that I _do _that allows you to know that I'm lying."

"House, I don't know."

"You know…you just won't tell me."

"I have no reason not to tell you. And if I knew how to describe it, then I'd tell you what it is, but I don't."

"Then show me"

"I can't…_show_ you because I don't know," she said, with mild frustration.

"Then just…attempt to explain it to me."

"It isn't a specific thing or gesture or movement. It's just…I don't know! It's a feeling."

"A feeling?" he responded incredulously.

"Yes. A feeling."

"Are you lying?"

"Do I look like I'm lying?"

"No," he admitted begrudgingly.

"Then I guess I'm not lying."

He scowled and she breathed a stuttered giggle, "Why does this bother you so much. It's not like you try to hide stuff from me, and even when you omit certain things, you usually tell me within about twenty-four hours anyway."

"It's not you I'm worried about, it's everyone else. I don't like_ not_ knowing anything, but this is about me. I should know."

"Sorry…I can't help you with this one," she said as she pushed him down into the bed and snuggled close. "It's been a long day. Try to sleep."

* * *

Early the next morning, House heard Jack and Ava playing in the room next door. That room was Ava's, and when Jack woke in the morning he went directly to his sister's room. House knocked softly on the door and Ava opened it slowly, looking up at her father with a sweet grin on her face through the small opening that she allowed.

"Can I come in?" he asked when she stared at him for a while.

"Sure," the girl answered, stepping back.

Jack was seated on the floor next to the bed, and House sensed the children were discussing something important only moments earlier. He moved onto the floor next to his son and patted the carpet where he expected Ava had been sitting. "So, my precious children," House said, looking down with exaggerated affection.

Both kids rolled their eyes, "What do you want, Dad?" Ava asked.

"Can't a father have a nice, motiveless, early morning chat with his beloved kids?"

"Not if the father is you," Ava said, meeting House's smirk. "What do you want?"

"You guys sleep OK?" he began.

Both kids nodded.

"Travel bugging you?" House asked.

Both kids shook their heads 'no.'

"What was the little Q&A session with Wilson about last night?" House queried.

"What Q&A session?" Jack asked.

"The one when you walked into the room and asked him about his life in that slightly creepy little way that you do…the thing you do that makes most people unknowingly step into your cute and highly perceptive little trap."

"You think we're creepy? Our own father thinks we're creepy?" Ava responded.

"You're deflecting," House accused.

"Deflecting from what?" Ava said innocently.

"From the reason behind why you were asking Wilson so many questions."

"Isn't that what people are supposed to do when they haven't seen someone for a while? Catch up? Tell stories?" Ava continued.

"You're responding to everything with a question," House said, pointing at them. "You learned most of this stuff from me. You can't play me…I'm on to both of you. And I'm also immune to that…sweet, innocent look you've mastered over the years."

Both children looked up at him, eyes intentionally wide and smiles abundant.

"You're funny, but that's why we love you, Daddy." Jack said.

"The 'daddy' was laying it on too thick. You never say that unless you're playing innocent. Big mistake, son."

Jack squinted back conspiratorially, "I'll remember that."

House smiled at them both for a moment, then asked, "Seriously…is something going on?"

"Are you asking this as our father or as Uncle Wilson's friend?" Ava asked.

"I'm asking this as the coolest dad on the planet, because…that's how I ask everything, I can't hide my true colors."

"Fine," Ava said, "Keep this between us. Adam's worried that…"

The door opened and Adam came in, "Oh, hey," he said, walking over to the place where they were all seated on the floor.

He smiled at House, the boy really was friendly and child-star-style adorable.

"You still trying to steal my wife?" House asked him, teasing the boy who immediately blushed.

"I was three when I said that, I'm not a baby anymore."

"It's true…you're a bigger threat now."

Adam's eyes widened, "No, I just…it's not like that."

House smirked and looked at him, "I have my eyes on you, Wilson-in-training."

Adam was fumbling, "Uncle Doctor House, I'd never."

House smiled at the boy, "It's OK, kid, breathe. I'm kidding."

Adam looked up at him, smiling meekly. "I wouldn't try to steal your wife."

"I appreciate your assurances, Adam," House said, attempting sincerity.

"I don't even think she sees me like that," Adam said, his face completely serious.

House rubbed at his nose to cover the smirk that was emerging. "Someday you'll be quite the catch, my little friend. My wife, and women like her, look for men who aren't…ya know…six years old."

Adam nodded somberly. House continued, "Look for girls your own age. Not my daughter," he added, "She's too old for you too, and even if she wasn't, the long distance thing is always tough, and even if neither of those two things were factors, I'd have to keep an eye on you to protect her…and I'm concerned that might strain our friendship."

"You're right," Adam nodded vehemently. "It's not like that. It's just that…Aunt Lisa's really sweet," Adam nodded and then blushed when he added, "and she gives really nice hugs."

House couldn't entirely stifle his chuckle, "Really? What makes them so nice?"

"Let's go eat!" Adam announced, gesturing for Jack and Ava to follow him. "See ya later," Adam said as he fled from the room with his friends, leaving a chuckling House on the floor of the guest room.

* * *

The day was relaxing, Wilson and Ann were both off of work to spend time with their friends, and the kids were still busily playing. While three of the adults sat around the kitchen table, Ann floated around the kitchen. House sat back and cleared his throat to make an announcement, "Ah-hem. I would like to announce, that tonight is guys' night."

"Is it?" Cuddy asked.

"Yes, so you chicks can go do girlie things, and we can stay here and do guy things."

Ann shrugged and nodded at Cuddy and asked, "So you guys are taking the boys, and we're taking Ava?"

"No!" House said, "Don't make Ava go with you two, she didn't do anything to deserve _that._ Face it, we're just more fun for kids."

"You said guys' night," Cuddy answered.

"Right," House answered. "_Guy_ isn't necessarily gender specific. I didn't realize I was married to such a sexist pig," he huffed.

Cuddy chuckled, answering sarcastically, "Right, that's me…a total sexist."

"The first step is admitting your prejudice."

"Fine, then, if it isn't gender specific, I guess Ann and I are invited to join you too?"

"God, no!" House exclaimed. "I said guy. 'Guy' isn't a gender so much as an attitude. You…are not a guy."

"I _can _be one of the guys," Cuddy said, standing with one hand perched proudly on her hip, the other hand flipping dismissively through the air.

House looked at her posture and body language with doubt.

"You are going to refer to the way I'm currently standing as proof that I'm not one of the guys, aren't you?"

House nodded, "It's OK…" he said patronizingly, "We all try to accept you just the way you are."

"You used to see me like that."

"No…really I didn't," he shook his head and smirked slightly.

"Yes, you did," she accused.

"There…may have been times when I wanted you to think that I saw you like that…in the hopes that pretending to see you like that…would put me in a position to see you naked."

Cuddy tried to hide the grin that played on her lips, and gently elbowed the back of his head while she walked past, "That's fine, Ann, you up for going out?"

"Oh yea," Ann smiled.

Cuddy and Ann started to leave the room, and Cuddy turned back, "Why do you want the kids with you for guys' night? What's your angle?"

"Gonna play poker. What fun is it to just take Wilson's money when I could empty the pockets of four players at the same time?" House answered.

"Even though two of those four individuals will only have money if you give it to them?"

"It's all about the money for you, isn't it?" House teased. "You're so materialistic."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and surrendered the discussion before she and Ann left to drink their coffee in the other room.

"Wilson, what in the hell's going on?" House asked, leaning his elbows on the table as soon as the women were gone from the room.

"What do you mean?" Wilson said innocently.

"Something's going on. Your wife kept a minimum distance of four feet from you at all times, and I didn't hear a single word exchanged between the two of you. Your kid suspects something is going on…which is why my kids suspect something is going on, which is why they were asking you those questions last night."

Wilson shook his head, "Your children are like you…paranoid."

"No…they aren't. They were looking for a lie. So, to figure out what they were looking for, I need to think of what they were asking about…they asked you about watching movies, how you were, how your work was and where Ann was. Which of those things did they think you were going to lie about?"

"You're an expert in spotting lies…you tell me," Wilson said with a smile. "You're worried about nothing."

"OK," House shrugged. "Oh my god," House said with horror, "You are sleeping with Cameron, that's why she was with you at _lunch_."

"NO!" Wilson practically screamed, "Keep your voice down. The last thing I need is for someone to think I'm cheating."

"Are you?"

"NO!" Wilson said adamantly.

"OK," House answered hesitantly.

"I had lunch with Cameron because she was sitting alone in the cafeteria. She was there for an interview. That's it," Wilson said with his hands up in partial surrender.

"Fine. But have you slept with her…before that…or since then…"

"NO! I said no. Never. I have never slept with Cameron."

"But you are sleeping with someone?"

"No," Wilson said tiredly, letting his hand fall into his lap. "I am not sleeping with anyone."

"Not even your wife?" House joked.

Wilson's expression fell from his face. "Not even my wife."

"I was kidding…you're…serious?"

"I'm serious," Wilson said, no longer attempting to hide his devastation.

"So _she_ cheated?"

"I don't think so. Maybe? No…I don't think she did. I really don't."

"Then what's going on?"

"We agreed, no meddling, House."

"No meddling, I won't say anything to her. No digging, no prying, no scheming…with her…or your kid. Just tell me so I don't have to keep guessing."

"I don't know what's going on." Wilson said, his face covered in stress. "Things were…fine. And then they just…they weren't."

"Something had to make things…not fine."

"Nothing. Nothing happened. There wasn't a fight or an affair. Things were good…then things were fine…and then…things were not fine."

"I don't understand," House said calmly. "Do you still…feel something for her?"

"Of course I do!"

"Do you think she still feels something for you?"

"I don't know. She said she's done with us. Maybe…she still loves me…I don't know."

"Did you ask her?"

"I shouldn't have to say this to you…but…won't she just…lie?" Wilson asked with irritation.

"Possibly," House answered. "But she's your wife. I'm sure you could tell."

"I dunno. I thought I had it figured out."

"So why are you both still here? I mean…if you are both still here, then it must _not_ be over entirely. There's some…hesitation."

"We haven't spoken to Adam yet. We don't know what we're going to do."

"If nothing happened, why is there a problem?"

"I guess we are just…falling out of love."

"But you just said you still love her."

"I do. Things change. I'm sure the intensity has faded for you guys too. When that fades…either you keep going…or you don't."

"No," House said shaking his head. "You are letting this go because you see the end of it as inevitable because marriage hasn't worked for you before."

"Why are you so worried about this?"

"Because…if you break up with her, you'll move back in with me…you'll sleep on my sofa…blow dry your hair…trudge around all depressed…then you'll depress my kids…you'll start asking to sleep with my wife…then you'll start editing your face into our family photos…"

"I don't think I'd do that."

"Look. You don't want it to end. If you really wanted it to be over you wouldn't be upset. You are upset. You don't want this to end."

"Of course I don't"

"So, let's do something about it"

"All of us?" Wilson said with a sad chuckle.

"Let me help you get your girl back," House said.

"Oh no. After all of those lectures you gave me about meddling…you want me to give you permission to meddle in my life?"

"I want to help. I won't do anything but talk to you. I won't get involved in any way you don't know about. I won't set up anything unless you ask me to. I won't say a word to Ann."

Wilson looked at House suspiciously. "How do I know?"

"I guess you don't," House shrugged. "You want this. I want you to not feel all mopey and loserish. If you can tell me you don't want this…I'll leave it alone."

Wilson thought for a few moments, watching his friend. "No you won't."

"You're right…I probably won't," House said with a little grin.

Wilson smirked back, "I miss having you around."

"No matter how much you beg, I will not have sex with you."

"I…think I can live with that arrangement."

"We can pull this off," House said. "I'm telling you. You are just accepting this as fact when it doesn't have to be."

Wilson leaned toward his friend, "Honestly, between you and me…things aren't as intense with Cuddy as they used to be, right? I mean, things change…you get…used to each other. Things aren't as exciting anymore, you have to admit that."

House leaned his chin on the knuckles of one hand, thinking for a moment. "Every time I see Cuddy…I want to run off with her again, and I want to keep running off with her for as long as she'll let me." House shrugged, "I still…after having her all this time, remember what it felt like to not have her. I didn't like the feeling of not having her."

Wilson stared at House, shocked by the forthrightness of his admission, the vulnerability he showed in his confession, and then House leaned forward and whispered loudly, "It's the bod. If she lets that go, I'm out."

"You aren't seriously going to do that? After that honest, loving sentiment…"

House squinted and looked upward, "I seriously _am_ going to do that. You spent years checking that out, you know you'd stay if that ass was snuggled up next to _you_ every night…begging for your lovin'."

"She's your _wife._"

"Doesn't make her less hot."

"Please shut the fuck up," Wilson said, dropping his face into his hands.

"She's pretty freaky and virtually insatiable… I mean, not so freaky that you're sometimes a little grossed out, but just freaky enough to be exciting…I still get more sex as a married man than I ever did in college…"

"Seriously, House, stop…I get it."

House smirked as Cuddy walked back into the room and found House grinning and Wilson looking away. "Hey, Cuddy?" House asked, "Can I tell Wilson about our third wedding anniversary celebration?"

She strode over to the table, and leaned down on it with her knuckles, looking right at House. He watched as she thought. "Absolutely. In fact, I'll tell him," she said, turning quickly to Wilson and saying, "It was one of the most romantic things he has ever done…first they came and picked us up…"

"No, no, no, no…not that part," House interrupted, "That's private."

Cuddy leaned down, smirking, knowing perfectly well that he had no intention of sharing the sweeter aspects of that evening with Wilson. When she was right in front of House's face, she whispered, "If that part is private…so is everything that happened after that."

House pouted for a second then smiled when she lifted his chin with the tip of her finger and quickly kissed his lips. She whispered, "I remember our third anniversary, so…between you and me…I'm calling your bluff."

House smirked and raised his eyebrows, commenting, "Good anniversary!"

"Great anniversary!" she said flirtatiously as she stood up, her eyes never leaving his. She cleared her throat and looked at Wilson, saying as she walked out of the room, "I'll see you boys later."

Wilson shook his head with amazement when House watched Cuddy leave the room in the same way he had innumerable times before. "You're sick…this _still_ borders on obsession."

"It does, doesn't it?" House asked happily. "I'm allowed to still admire what's mine if it's worth admiring. It's consensual obsession."

"Yea…I guess you're right," Wilson answered. He tapped the table for a few minutes and then said, "I…don't want my whole life to slip away. I hate this feeling. I hate feeling like I'm going to lose everything that I thought I had. And then I'll have to start over. I'll have to fall in love again, and be convinced that _she's_ the one again, and fall out of love again, and be alone again. And I want things to be good for Adam."

"First thing's first. Make a decision. Do you want this…do you want to throw everything into it? Because if not, you might as well pack your shit and walk away."

"It might be too late."

"Is that your decision?"

Wilson shook his head and looked away. "No, it's not. I still…want this. I don't want this relationship to end like that."

"OK. We'll wait until they're gone…then…we plan!"

Wilson put his empty mug in the dishwasher and turned back to his friend, "You do _still _really feel that way about her? Don't you?"

House's head nodded shallowly as he looked at his folded hands.

"Must have been a hell of a night…your…third was it? Third anniversary?"

House shrugged. "They're all good nights. That one just had a date that was easy to remember."

"I'm happy for you. I am. I don't think I'll ever get…used to seeing you like this. I mean, I'll never stop being surprised that it worked for you guys."

House thought for a moment and then shook his head, "Neither will I. Maybe that's why it worked for us. Celia was right…you should always feel like the person next to you is just a little too good for you."

Wilson nodded with his head crooked to one side, "What are we doing tonight?"

"The sky's the limit, my friend."

"The sky…and the three children you said that we'd watch."

"Subterfuge"

"We…aren't watching them?"

"We're calling Celia. Then...the fun begins."

"Oh god"


	19. Unfulfilled

_A/N-Thanks to all of the reviewers for their comments: IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, Bounce, OldSFfan, Josam, HilsonFTW, housebound, ammeboss, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, LapizSilkwood, jkarr, ClareBear14, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl21, IWuvHouse, CaptainK8, Abby, Olivia, Alex, HuddyGirl, LoveMyHouse, BJAllen815, JLCH, Mon Fogel, Tori and the Guest reviewer._

_I know this is late, a migraine Friday made editing impossible. This week's updates may be on odd days due to extensive work travel, but I will update. Thanks to BJAllen815 for reminding me that House wouldn't allow Cuddy's fantasies to go unfulfilled. For those who wanted to read about the third anniversary, here it is. This chapter is mostly flashback._

_*This chapter includes adult content._

* * *

Later that afternoon, House found Cuddy in their room at Wilson's. He flopped on the bed and watched as she darted around, getting ready to leave. "Where are you and Ann going?" he asked.

She looked down at her outfit, "Dinner, drinks. Too much?"

"You look good. Maybe too good."

"It's jeans," she said, pointing at her attire. "You wear jeans every day."

"My ass doesn't look like that in them."

"Actually, I'm really happy about that," she smirked. "You were the one that suggested that we go out…and now you're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous. I mean…there are definitely going to be some guys checking you out in those jeans…"

"Trust me, the jeans, and the rest of me, will be all yours when I get back."

The playful expression left House's face as he stared ahead. She drifted onto the bed, sitting on the edge, "Please tell me that we are not resorting to old patterns of petty jealousy and unwarranted distrust."

His trance broke and he looked toward her briefly, "It's not that."

"So then what is it?"

"Wilson and Ann…did you know something was going wrong there?"

"I suspected. Ann confirmed," Cuddy replied.

"Did she say…what happened?"

"I think they've been growing apart for years. I don't know if she'll talk to me about it tonight or not…and if she does, it isn't like I'm going to come home blabbing all of that to you."

"Growing apart? So…distance is inevitable?"

"No, not at all."

"So, what makes some people grow apart?"

"I don't know. Time…unresolved issues…incompatibility…anything."

"What made _them_ grow apart?"

"They've never been the same since they lost the baby."

"Fetus"

"They named their daughter, they had a room for her, they had ultrasound pictures of her in a little wooden frame. They were attached. No matter what science says…they lost their baby."

"That was years ago…"

"Exactly"

"So why didn't they end it years ago."

"I'm not saying that's the reason…it's just that it didn't help. I don't think that they ever acknowledged how hard that was on them. So, it sits there, under everything else, and they went looking for comfort outside."

"So she's cheating? Or she thinks he is?"

"I don't know. I didn't hear anything, I only spoke to her alone for a couple of minutes."

"You said they went looking for comfort."

"Comfort doesn't necessarily mean sex. Sounds like Wilson found comfort at the hospital…and Ann found comfort at her company… the _them _part got lost in the routine. Lost in the sort of everyday minutia that starts to swallow a person when they're just trying to keep going."

"Let's assume for the sake of argument that your theory is correct. What do they do to fix that?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"You have a pretty comprehensive theory about what's wrong…I know you well enough to know that you like to fix things…"

"Not other people's relationships."

"But if you did?"

"House…don't get involved. I don't even know if they want to be fixed."

"Let's say Wilson does."

"What's going on? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to whisper pieces of advice like Cyrano…and that…idiot that Cyrano helped to get the girl. Except Cyrano is actually a lot better looking than the idiot…and instead of a huge nose, he has a huge penis. And Cyrano doesn't actually harbor feelings for the girl that the idiot is trying to woo."

"So, really except for the part where you try to help him win the girl, it's nothing at all like Cyrano."

House squinted and looked upward in thought, "Yea, pretty much!"

"They need to figure it out on their own. They need to decide if it's worth it for them or not. No one from the outside can make that work. As friends we can listen…maybe give some advice. That's it."

"OK, so what advice would you give?"

"I don't know. You and I are hardly role models for making a relationship work. We went through way too much to get to OK. But…if I had to think of something…I guess I'd say that they should be honest, even if it hurts. Try to…find ways to really appreciate each other. Figure out what the other one wants. Have dates…keep things fresh."

"Sounds insightful."

"You searching for a change in career…wanna be a relationship counselor?"

"Nope…just feel like messing with Wilson."

"Right," she said dryly. "I wouldn't get too involved," she warned again.

"You ladies have fun tonight," he said happily, distracted by his own plans for the evening.

* * *

_**-Third Wedding Anniversary-** _

_The morning of their third wedding anniversary, House woke up to find his stereo and turntable in the living room. It looked as if they had been entirely refurbished since the last time he had seen the items in their home in Philly. Boxes of albums were next to the table, some he recognized from his own collection, and some appeared to be new. He dressed and went down to the Center where Cuddy was already flying through a long list of items she wanted to take care of before they could have the next day off. Kate and Mel had planned a camping trip with Jack and Ava to allow the couple to have a short getaway. Two days earlier, they heard that a patient would be arriving to see House, and their trip would have to be shortened to an overnight. Although it was a case he was very interested in taking, both were somewhat disappointed about their shortened celebration._

_House followed Cuddy into her office and waited impatiently while she spoke on the phone. When he grew tired of waiting, he started banging the handle of his cane on top of her desk in an infuriatingly rhythmic fashion. When she couldn't sit by idly any longer, she reached over the desk, pulled the cane out of his hand, and braced it against her chair, shooting a disapproving scowl at him. _

"_You're violating my rights under the ADA," House shouted loudly enough to be heard by the person on the other end of Cuddy's call._

_Cuddy covered the mouthpiece of her phone and spoke to House, "I don't think the '_Americans_ with Disabilities Act' applies in Barbados."_

"_Then the…BDA?" he questioned._

"_I don't think that's a thing," she whispered to House, and then spoke back into the phone, "Well, Doctor, we really appreciate your support, and I'll be more than happy to let our research team take a look at your findings."_

"_Surely there must be an equivalent," House spoke loudly, completely ignoring her conversation on the phone, "Barbadians love cripples…they wouldn't just leave us unprotected against tyrannical bosses."_

"_We won't be willing to work with anything experimental until we have full access to all of your research. We have patients…and a reputation…to protect," Cuddy said to the person on the other end of her call. She covered the phone, her brow wrinkling in frustration, "_I _am not your boss. So you'll have to find the Barbadian equivalent of the ADA, learn about your rights, and file a complaint with yourself if you don't like your working conditions."_

"_You're far too comprehensively uptight to not know about laws that could impact the running of this place…or me."_

_Cuddy continued talking on the phone, refusing to be interrupted, until he said loudly, "If the BDA isn't the Barbadians with Disabilities Act…then what is it?" he sat in thought for a minute then proudly exclaimed, "The Bondage and Domination Act…we live on an island with mandatory bondage, don't we? So, that's why you wanted to move here," he joked._

_Cuddy was silent, as was the person on the other end of the phone, and her expression seemed to convey extreme irritation. "Would you excuse me for a second, Dr. Grable?" Cuddy asked. She pressed the hold button with one disapproving slap of a finger and sighed, "You…are such an ass. I need ten minutes to finish this call…it is very important. Now go irritate someone else, and come back later. And in case you've forgotten…_you_ were the one who wanted to move here."_

"_Love the gift," he commented._

_Her lips twitched upward just a bit, "Happy Anniversary."_

_"You got that stuff while you were in Philly for your mom's surgery?"  
_

_"Yes. Sent the equipment to be refurbished and shipped home with the albums."  
_

_"When we were in the middle of that fight?"_

_"Yes"  
_

_"And you still were thinking about a future anniversary gift for me?" he asked with confusion.  
_

_"I was there, alone, missing you. When I saw your stereo, it seemed perfect."  
_

_House opened his mouth to speak, and she could see that the remark, whatever it was going to be, was going to be wildly inappropriate. She took his cane from its spot against her chair and held it out to him, "Go."_

"_I thought you said you weren't my boss."_

"_I'm not. But it's my office. When we're in your office, you can be in charge."_

_His face lit up mischievously, and she interrupted him, "Out!"_

_As he was walking out of her office, he shouted over his shoulder, "You'll be done by lunch, right?"_

"_Yup"_

"_Not a minute later?"_

"_I'll be ready," she assured him._

* * *

_At lunch time, he flung her door open as she was dispatching of the last few items that remained on her desk. She approached him, saying, "OK, I'm ready, what are we doing?"_

"_What are anniversaries, Cuddy?"_

"_One day each year…when you…remember something that happened previously on that date," she replied hesitantly._

_House considered her definition and then reluctantly accepted it, "Let's not focus so much on remembering the events of a specific day of the year, but rather of having a day to celebrate moments of a shared past."_

_He took her arm and led her out of her office and toward a waiting car. "I don't have my stuff," she protested._

"_I have your stuff…or enough stuff. When we leave, you can put your outfit back on, and we can reminisce about our first hookup and the morning after 'walk of shame.'"_

"_Our first hookup? Is that the moment from a shared past that we're remembering?"_

"_Not exactly. I was thinking," he said as they got in the car, "that anniversaries also celebrate the success of making it another year. I thought that, maybe, it would be sort of fun to try and remember some element of our past…maybe even some years…we could…attempt to right a wrong…"_

"_We have one night away, and I'm guessing you don't want to spend the entire time flying somewhere to revisit a memory."_

"_F__ocus on the principal of the thing."_

"_OK, then…yes, I think that sounds great," she agreed._

"_Wonderful," he answered, "now put this on."_

"_I have to wear a blindfold?"_

"_Our location is a surprise."_

_He took her on a long boat ride while they discussed ordinary things. Things about life, about their children, about their pasts. The ride was flirtatious and full of innuendo, as so many of their discussions were. "Where are we?" she asked when they arrived at their destination._

"_Tahiti"_

"_You managed to get us from Barbados to Tahiti in under an hour?"_

"_Special space-time travel boat thingie. Use your imagination, Cuddy."_

"_Sorry," she chuckled as he took her arm and led her to their accommodations._

_When he took off her blindfold, she saw the room, which was decorated much like their place had been in Tahiti._

"_This is so cool," she commented, looking around the room._

* * *

_Later that evening, after dinner, they sat in their room. The man's ridiculously accurate memory served him well at times like that. He remembered specific foods, drinks, some of the songs that were playing at the resort bar when they had visited Tahiti years earlier. "You know how to make the best of a quick overnight away," she complimented._

"_Just because there's not much time doesn't mean we should cut corners."_

_Cuddy smiled, swirling her drink in her glass. _

_"So, you remember how we were discussing anniversaries and reminiscing?" House asked._

"_Yea, you…did an amazing job recreating Tahiti…I love it."_

"_Good," he nodded, "but I also mentioned righting wrongs."_

"_I can't think of a single thing that was wrong with our trip to Tahiti."_

"_I hate leaving you feeling…unfulfilled."_

_Cuddy replied with a raspy giggle, "You looking for compliments? Did I forget to tell you that you are the best I ever had while we were there?"_

_He smirked. "Nope. You told me that plenty. Like you could stop yourself," he teased._

_She shrugged in agreement. "You are really amazing."_

"_I never want any of your fantasies to be ignored."_

"_I think you've more than exceeded my expectations…what's this about?"_

"_See…if I don't fulfill your fantasies…then that leaves this…undercurrent of dissatisfaction. This tiny chink in a history of near sexual perfection."_

_She laughed, "Your ego is huge…but deserved. There is no chink. I'm not dissatisfied. So…are you trying to do some sort of reverse thing…you have a fantasy that I haven't fulfilled."_

_He chuckled, "Nope"_

"_Then what are you getting at?"_

_He reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out the same handcuffs they'd had for years. "That's nothing new," she shrugged._

_He slid them across the table to her. They had an understanding for years. They occasionally used restraints in their play, in their torment of each other, but years ago in Tahiti he made it perfectly clear, he had no desire to be restrained. He had so few boundaries when it came to sex that she was more than willing to accept the few limitations he put on them. _

"_Oh! __No," she shook her head, "You don't have to do that, I'm fine." _

_She immediately understood what he was offering. He had agreed to try it one time after Tahiti, never wanting to disappoint her. "We tried this before," she said, decisively shaking her head, "and you get that…disgusted…horrified look. No woman wants to have sex with someone who is looking at her like he is disgusted. That…does not turn me on."_

"_It wasn't disgust…it was mild discomfort."_

"_It was horror."_

"_That was a long time ago."_

"_Nothing's changed, House. Let it go. I have."_

"_You gonna make me beg for you to tie me up?"_

"_No, I'm just telling you. Let it go. I'm OK with it. But, since you brought it up, just…tell me why it bothers you so much. I know you trust me. I know you know I wouldn't do anything horrible to you."_

"_Why does it bother me?" he asked. "Makes me think of…being arrested…prison… detox… None of those memories are at all arousing to me. The look of horror isn't about you, or my trust or lack of trust for you…there are just a lot of bad memories associated with being restrained."_

_She nodded, "That makes sense. You could have told me that from the start. Believe me…I never think of sex with you as unfulfilling."_

"_So…show me. Show me how different it is than any of those things," he challenged. "I want to do this."_

"_No, you don't"_

"_Yea, I do. I'm ready to do this. Even if it's just once. It's something you wanted. I want to give it to you," he said as he scooped up the handcuffs from the table._

_She hesitated until he stood, walking to the space in front of her and pulling her to him, kissing her neck, his hands drifting along her body, shifting the mood from one of negotiation to one of arousal. He pulled her with him, toward the bed, never refraining from his attention to her. They removed their shirts, his jeans and her skirt, until they were clothed only in their underwear, the tension and desire mounting between them. _

_She thought, for a moment, that he had forgotten their discussion, that they would become consumed by their passion for each other and forget about his proposition, until he reached into the pocket of his recently removed jeans, found the handcuffs that he had stashed there again, and pressed them into her hands._

_He sat back on the bed, bringing her with him, looking up at her with a look of willing surrender. Her fingers slipped up his one arm and brought the restraints to his wrist. When she clicked the metal ring closed around his left wrist, she smiled down at him, monitoring his mood. "Stop worrying, you're gonna kill it," he warned. "This is supposed to be fun."_

_She threaded the narrow metal chain around the post on the headboard, and similarly bound his right hand. His look was a bit tentative, a bit uncertain, but certainly not horrified or disgusted. She leaned forward, slowly, cautiously enough that he wasn't sure if she was going to say something or do something. _

_Her hair spilled forward from her shoulders, and her lips met his in a way that was both comforting and distracting. She began tentatively, much like a first kiss, uncertain, testing, and then her attentions became more intense, passionate, like two people finally breaking the pained cycle of unrequited love. Her hands slid along his arm and up to his hands to lace her fingers with his, in some ways already missing the way his hands would find her, but enjoying the unfamiliarity of the encounter._

_She could feel him relaxing under her, raising his head to meet her mouth, his hands only pulling at the restraints once or twice when he'd involuntarily reach for her. She sat upright, perched on his abdomen, and removed her bra before returning to him. He felt the enticing sensation of her breasts pressing down into his chest, soft and warm, the feeling of her skin unquantifiably more amazing than the slick, silky fabric that separated them moments earlier. Her lips moved slowly along his jaw and down his neck to his chest. Her fingers stretched across his ribs as she sat up, looking down at him, and seeing not horror, but excitement in his eyes, seeing the hesitation that he once harbored being dispelled by the way she was making him feel. _

_She lifted up off of him momentarily to remove her panties and his boxers, the last pieces of fabric that could separate them. She saw the need in his eyes and she shivered slightly when he mumbled, "Come here."_

_She sat back on his torso, considering her options, wondering how much to give, and how much to take. She moved back down, sitting between his legs while she kissed down the flatness of his abdomen to his hip. Her hands were flat against him, low on his stomach by his hips, and he actually thought he may lose his mind with need. When one hand finally glided over to his rapidly hardening erection, he sighed with both contentment and pleasure at the slightest of touches. _

_She was gentle, frustratingly gentle, and just when he thought he would no longer be able to hide his complaint, he felt her tongue steadily dragging along him until her lips joined one hand in surrounding his arousal. She felt amazing to him, painfully enticing. Watching her was simply incredible. There was something exciting about being restrained, about the way it prevented him from doing exactly what he knew he would do if he could. Strapped there to the bed, he had no choice but to watch her, to enjoy whatever she decided to do._

_Part of him was amazed by just how much he was enjoying everything she was doing. When she climbed along his torso, she brought a breast to his mouth and she heard him sigh again with relief and pleasure. She didn't allow him to taste her skin too much, he was able to pull her nipple into his mouth, lap along the fullness of her breast a few times before it was lost and she offered him the other one. Learning from the brevity of his encounter with her left breast, he attacked the right as voraciously as possible, trying to do all of the things he wanted to do to that part of her in the time she would allow him. _

_When he pinched her nipple between his teeth, he felt her hips shift, her pelvis pressing down into his torso in search of contact as the need grew throughout her body. "Let me lick you," he pleaded, although she wasn't certain if it was a demand or a request. If she didn't want to feel his mouth on her so badly, she would have been amused by his ability to demand something from the position he was in at that moment, but her need was every bit as thorough and desperate as his. She crawled along his body, kneeling one leg next to him, and propping her other leg up on her foot, offering a taste of herself to him. From the look in his eyes, she expected that he'd attack her hungrily, that she's be squirming with desire and possibly climax within moments, but, even restrained, he was somehow able to exert some control over her. _

_He delicately traced along her wetness, parting her folds with only the tip of his tongue as she braced her hands along the headboard for balance. She moved her hips, trying to direct his contact, but he stubbornly and patiently offered only as much as he was willing to give. She was awed and unbelievably turned on by the fact that he was the one who was restrained, but she was the one who was ready to beg for his touch. When his lips finally surrounded her clit, she moaned that raspy, low sound that was the perfect audible signal that he possessed her. His tongue and mouth were finally moving exactly the way she wanted them to be, she was getting lost in his attention and felt her body begin to tense and flood with sensation as she knew she was nearing her climax. When she looked down at him, she could see the sense of satisfaction in his eyes that he was still responsible for her pleasure from his submissive position, and that broke the trance of sexual bliss that she was shrouded in. He groaned when she backed away. "You don't want the orgasm that you were almost about to have?"_

"_Oh, I want it," she said knowingly, "I'm just delaying a little longer. I think it'll be worth it."_

_She slipped lower on his body, allowing both of her hands to find his erection, to continue the slow, steady buildup to completion. The occasional soft groans of need, accompanied by the increasingly rhythmic rise of his hips made her feel powerful and attractive. His trust was entire, his body responding in spite of his earlier reservations. "If I unlocked your cuffs, what would you do?" she asked._

"_I'll show you," he offered with a leer._

"_I want you to tell me."_

"_I guess I should tell you that I'd flip back, ravish your breasts, I'd go down on you, finally make you come so hard that you'd be unsure if you should pull me closer or push me away, and then I'd fuck you like I've been waiting for you for years…because that's how my body feels."_

"_I didn't ask what you should tell me…I asked what you would do."_

"_I'm so fucking turned on right now it hurts. So if you let me go, I'd grab your hips and pull you up to me and I'd be fucking you as soon as I could get to you. I want to be inside you. I want to feel how warm and wet you are, the way your pussy quivers and tightens on me. I need that. And I'm so fucking hard that I don't even know how long I'd make it…but I guarantee, I'd make you come every bit as hard as I would."_

_She felt his legs and stomach tensing, and knew he was trying to think of anything other than the softness of her fingers against the smooth skin of his straining erection, and how he wasn't sure if he was ever so overwhelmingly aroused before in his life. "Cuddy," he said with a warning tone, wanting her to know that he was nearing the end of his resolve. _

_Her hands moved onto his lower abdomen, moving in broad strokes up his stomach and chest and he groaned, although she was uncertain if it was in disappointment, or because he was relieved that he wouldn't be coming in her hands. She kissed his lower abdomen, mid-stomach, along his ribs, moving with slowness as his torso felt the sensations of the ends of her hair, her fingertips and soft lips at varying places. It was sensation overload. When her fingers reached his neck, snaking up to his cheeks, she held his face in her hands and kissed him with all of the intensity of her own aching desire. _

_When she was ready, he felt her guiding him inside her, allowing only the slightest bit of penetration for a few moments before she slowly rocked them together. When he was fully buried inside of her, he groaned with the truest satisfaction possible at a time of such consuming need. She sat up, largely unmoving, her body holding him within her tightly, fully, while she allowed her hands and fingers to trace and massage his body. She wanted to feel all of him, every part, to make him feel the love and compassion, coupled with lust and desire. "What about now? What would you do now…if I opened your cuffs?"_

"_I'd grab onto your ass, and pull you so tight against me, I'd rock your hips to me so that your clit ground against my body, then I'd pull out of you as far as I could before I'd pound back into you. I need you so bad, Cuddy. Then I'd tilt your hips so I could be as far in you as I can get, and I'd fuck you with everything that I have…because that's all I can think about right now."_

_She smiled and lifted up from his body, dropping back down onto him roughly, trying to give him the visceral, wild meeting of needs that she knew he wanted. She was soon gasping and panting with her own desire, almost lost in their sex, when she realized just how thoroughly she missed his hands, his cooperation. Missing as few beats as she could, she freed one hand, which instantly found her ass, desperately grabbing at the flesh while she released the other hand. Once both hands were free, his next move was as unexpected as it was erotic. Both of his hands moved to her face, and he sat up slightly, his lips crushing hers, kissing her in a way that instantly sent her rushing even closer to orgasm. _

_After his initial and greatest need was met, his hands wasted little time moving to her ass, moving her body between his rising hips and the subsequent blunt strength of his hands pulling her back to him. They met each other easily with the familiarity of lovers who knew exactly how the other one moved, and with her first gasp of "Oh god, oh fuck, oh god," that moment when he knew she was skirting along the very brink, he met her words with his own emphatic calling of her name. _

_Her body tightened around him, the strength of her orgasm clenching down on him so hard that he felt it was virtually impossible for him to move, if not for the unbelievable amount of slick wetness between them. It wasn't just her sex that gripped him. Her hands, her arms, her thighs, her whole body clung to him, her lips finding his face and shoulders and neck just because she wanted to touch every part of him. His head jerked back, his own body in the grips of a system wide reaction to physical bliss while he maintained as much of the meeting and retreating of their bodies as he could for as long as he could. With one final, powerful plunge, his tension released, and he felt as if his entire body was flowing into her while she melted around him._

_As their bodies attempted to return to normal, as their heightened states lowered to resting, they panted almost pathetically against each other, stomachs rising and falling, as sweaty skin touched and brushed against sweaty skin. _

_She was still curled around him, her body refusing to accept separation. His arms were slung over her body passively, but with post-orgasmic, heavy weakness. He kissed her forehead and admitted tiredly, "OK…I'll admit it…that's so much better than jail."_


	20. Recon

_A/N-Thank you to everyone who left their comments since the last chapter: Suzieqlondon, JLCH, housebound, dmarchl21, IHeartHouseCuddy, Abby, BJAllen815, Alex, HuddyGirl, KiwiClare, SupaDupaAlex, IWuvHouse, Olivia, LiaHuddy, ClareBear14, partypantscuddy, and Mon Fogel._

_I should be able to get another update out Wed/Thursday and then I'll be back on my normal update schedule for the following week._

* * *

Just as the door closed after Cuddy and Ann left for the afternoon, House turned conspiratorially to Wilson, "It's time."

"Maybe this is a bad idea," Wilson responded with concern.

"You don't even know what we're doing."

"True. Tell me what we're doing so that I can tell you that it's a bad idea."

"You said you don't know what's going wrong. So, first I have to do some research to ascertain what's wrong. Once I know what's wrong, we can figure out how to fix it."

"What sort of…research?"

* * *

House went to the hospital with Wilson along with all three children. "What, exactly, are you looking for?" Wilson asked while they caught up to the children. Adam, Ava and Jack all stood in front of the elevator impatiently hitting the button.

"All of the reasons why your marriage is falling apart," House answered.

"OK. Here? At work?"

"Yup. I remember you hiding out here during the pre-divorce of your last marriage."

"Think it's more likely that I was hiding here because of the pre-divorce…not in pre-divorce because I was hiding here."

"Maybe the two are more related than you think. Maybe there are little problems, so you hide here. Then when you hide here, it encourages the problems with your wife…it makes her worry. Then when she's more upset and worried, you hide here more. Then she's even more upset. Then…"

"I get it. Fine," Wilson interrupted.

House was already staring past Wilson with a look of dedicated observation. Wilson turned and saw Adam being hugged by a relatively consistent parade of hospital staff. The boy was well liked throughout the hospital. He was friendly, sweet, and eager to hand out hugs as they were requested. Adam introduced Ava and Jack to each person who approached them. Ava avoided the hugs of the strangers effectively at every turn, appearing a bit horrified by the amount of attention she was receiving. Jack, although a very affectionate child with familiars, was equally hesitant of strangers. He extended his arm to offer handshakes to those who would accept them, and awkwardly accepted the hugs of those who refused to take the offered handshake.

As the kids entered Wilson's office, a resident approached, calling for Wilson. "Dr. Wilson, I need to discuss this with you."

Wilson stopped in the hallway, looking over the file the resident gave him and listening while she spoke about a case. House watched the situation with surprising patience. After answering all of the resident's questions, Wilson said, "Veronica Baylor, this is the infamous Dr. House."

The resident smiled sweetly, "I've heard that you and Dr. Wilson were friends. Some of your diagnoses, as well as some of your antics, are pretty well known around here."

House calmly looked the woman over. She was perhaps a few years older than some of the residents, openly enthusiastic, and from the conversation between she and Wilson, she seemed intelligent. She was attractive in an elegant and dignified way. House took a deep, thoughtful breath and said, with a sense of certainty, "You're fired."

"What?" the woman asked, giggling. "That's an interesting greeting. Particularly from a person who I don't work for."

"You're right. Wilson, fire her."

Baylor looked at Wilson, questioning his response. "You're not fired, just, go start treatment on Mrs. Rice."

Baylor looked back at House, equally satisfied and confused. "You didn't need his help with that file and you know it," House stated.

"I did," Becker answered.

"So you went directly to the head of the department when you had a question about a patient?"

"It's his patient."

"Fine. It's his patient. But you touched his arm five times during a two minute conversation. What's the reasoning behind that?"

She shook her head subtly as she searched for an answer, "Dr. Wilson and I are friends. It isn't like I was being inappropriate."

Wilson put his hand on the woman's back and said, "My friend has a problem physical contact and bouts of extreme paranoia. He's just messing with you. Go, start with Mrs. Rice. Everything's fine."

After the resident walked away, Wilson opened his office door and entered, "You aren't even in these walls twenty minutes and you're trying to fire someone?"

"She's trouble," House stated definitively. "She wants you to take her under your wing and she'll repay you with special favors."

"Cameron followed you around for years," Wilson said, closing the door behind them.

"I wasn't married. She also knew not to touch me. Well…usually."

"Cameron…the lady from the other day?" Jack asked, seated on the sofa in Wilson's office between Adam and Ava.

House turned, "It's not important."

"You brought it up," Ava answered.

"No, Wilson brought it up," House corrected.

"Was she your girlfriend?" Ava asked.

"No," House answered calmly, "and none of this is at all pertinent to this discussion."

"Does mom know she liked you?" Ava continued.

"I'm thinking yea," House answered, "And you guys aren't helping."

"What are we supposed to be helping with?" Ava asked.

"Nothing, this is grown up stuff for Wilson and I. We've got it under control."

"So you aren't gonna tell us?" Jack asked.

"Nope." House looked at Wilson, walked to the desk, and wrote on a piece of notebook paper, "That girl wants you. Fire her."

"All women want me. I can't fire ALL of them," Wilson wrote below House's scribble and smiled smugly.

"Not all of them," House spoke, "but the ones who do, who are trying to wiggle their career-driven selves into your life. You should fire them."

"That's great advice," Wilson answered sarcastically, "It's why the feminists love you."

"I don't have a problem with all women. I have a problem with her."

"You have a problem with pretty women."

"So," House answered victoriously, "You think that she's pretty."

Wilson groaned. "You are insane. And can we continue this discussion later?"

House looked behind him to the sofa where Wilson was pointing. All three children were watching the scene unfold before them with curious expressions.

Without answering, House went to Wilson's cabinets and began looking through everything. He opened every drawer of the desk, poking through items and files, and anything that he found. "What are you doing?" Wilson asked as he walked over to sit on the chair next to the waiting children.

"Searching the home. Or in this case, the secondary home."

"What are you hoping to find. If you tell me, perhaps I can help you."

"Patients always lie. And I'm not exactly sure of what I'm looking for."

"I'm not a patient."

"Patient-ish," House said as he sat down at Wilson's desk. "What's your password?"

"I'm not giving you my password."

"OK," House said calmly as he booted up the computer.

"You'll never guess it."

House looked around the room, glanced at the planner that was in front of him, and when the computer was ready, quickly entered a password.

"You'll never get it, House," Wilson said confidently.

When the computer beeped at the incorrect entry, House looked past the screen at Wilson. "Darn," he said, using innocent, child-safe words before punching in another attempt.

"Are you familiar with privacy…confidentiality?" Wilson asked, "I can't give you my password."

The computer beeped again, "Crap," House said emphatically as he began to look through the things on Wilson's desk again.

"OK, that's enough," Wilson warned. "You have five chances, and then it locks you out. Once it locks you out, I have to email IT, get the password reset, sign a paper…it's a huge pain in the ass."

The computer beeped again and House peered around the monitor, "How do you email IT if you can't get into your computer?"

"You use a different computer," Wilson said calmly as it beeped again. "Stop!"

House punched in a final attempt at the password and smirked. Wilson stood and darted to his desk to intercept him. "Got it!" House said happily.

* * *

When House was finished looking through Wilson's computer, and inspecting his desk for clues, he stood to leave.

"Don't you want to stop by and see Chase and his team?" Wilson asked while they started down the hall and the children ran ahead.

"I can't socialize while I'm on a case."

"I'm not a case," Wilson protested as a nurse approached.

"Dr. Wilson, how are you?" the woman said, her voice gentle and kindly.

"You're fired," House said to the woman who regarded him only momentarily and then continued walking.

"You can't fire every woman who talks to me," Wilson objected.

"Sure I can."

"You still don't work here. And Nurse Helen is definitely old enough to be my mother."

"Kinky bastard," House accused.

Wilson added, at a low whisper, "Plus, she's not even…you know…"

"She's not even what?"

"You know…attractive…"

Nurse Helen wasn't attractive. She was sweet, grandmotherly, but certainly no one Wilson was interested in romantically or sexually.

"You've slept with plenty of unattractive women," House retorted.

"I think I'll be able to exercise restraint, House." They caught up with the children and Wilson asked, "So what part of my life would you like to investigate next?"

* * *

Celia met them at Wilson's home with four of her grandchildren accompanying her. She quickly swept Ava and Jack in her arms, and her grandchildren excitedly greeted the House children. They all considered themselves cousins, although their visits were infrequent.

Only a few days earlier, Wilson's home was quiet and serene, with just the two adults and one child, and that evening, there were seven children rushing up and down the hallways and stairs of the home, happily chattering and laughing. Celia directed the men to the door, eager for an evening with her grandchildren.

House and Wilson left Celia with the children for a bar only a few blocks away. "So…" Wilson asked as they sat at the bar and ordered, "Did you figure out what's wrong, or do you need to interrogate my wife next?"

"I don't know if I know exactly what started it, but it seems pretty clear what is wrong now."

"What's that?"

"Well, you have a schedule loaded with crap that you don't need to do, and you have enough supplies at the office to live there for at least a week without going home. Neither of those things are good things. At least not in the context of your marriage."

"I'm a doctor, sometimes I have to stay. You don't stay at your office anymore? Because…you used to."

"I really only live a two minute limp away. It takes longer to get from one end of this hospital to the other."

Wilson shook his head, staring down at his drink. "I knew we should have left when you did. I should have convinced Ann to go with you guys."

"It isn't the location, Wilson. You need to prove to her that she means something to you. Show her you know her. Make her remember why she liked you in the first place."

"Has the irony of this escaped you? It hasn't escaped me. Because I'm sitting here…in a bar…looking at my fourth divorce…and taking advice from a man who, up until recently, had more meaningful relationships with hookers than girlfriends."

"I haven't been near a hooker in years," House said calmly. "I may have fucked up…a lot…over the years. Cuddy and I were…really a huge fucking disaster. But…I've spent a few years proving that I'm capable of a relationship. I'm not a complete relationship idiot. Cuddy seems happy enough."

"I know," Wilson sighed.

He looked near tears, Wilson was clearly sad and desperate, frustrated as he saw his life unraveling.

"We still need to figure out everything that caused it. You and Ann both bury yourselves in work, right? Work's…safer?" House asked.

"Yea, you could say that. Work is consistent. Less complicated."

"So don't do that. Make it a point to go home. If you can't make the ten minute drive, have them meet you somewhere for dinner that night instead."

Wilson nodded.

"You have to show her that you aren't willing to roll over and let go. Start off with a gesture to get her attention. Maybe you should try taking her out. Take her some place that means something to her."

"There's a new place. Hard to get in, but I could call in a…"

"Not a fancy place. Or an expensive place. You guys are successful professionals, drowning in money…she doesn't need someone to take her somewhere fancy, if she wanted to go, she could afford to take herself. I'm talking about selecting a _meaningful_ place."

"Where?"

"Somewhere that has history for you. You're trying to prove that you know her. That you remember."

They drank for a few minutes, enjoying the company, avoiding the more serious topics of marriage and divorce. After a few drinks, House told Wilson that it was time for them to go on to the next step in their quest. As he walked toward the door, House said, "You know…Cuddy has this theory."

"What's that?"

"She thinks that…all of this started back when…Ann had that miscarriage."

"That's ridiculous," Wilson laughed.

"That's what I thought," House said, shrugging.

"That was a long time ago."

"Right," House nodded. "Women. I mean, I told Cuddy, it's just a pile of meaningless flesh at that point anyway."

Just as House stepped through the door and turned back toward the bar to talk to his friend, Wilson's fist crashed into House's face, sending him stumbling backwards as he tried to catch his footing. Wilson took a few steps forward, shaking his hand as he tried to rid his knuckles of the ache from the punch. "I'm sorry," Wilson said as he realized what he'd done. "Why'd you have to be such an ass? There are…boundaries with this stuff that you just don't cross."

House rubbed his face, wishing that he had enjoyed a few more drinks while he was at the bar, and that it didn't feel like his eye was going to throb its way out of his head. "Funny."

"What…what's funny?"

"I guess Cuddy was right. Everything that happened…the miscarriage. It does matter."

"Of course it matters," Wilson agreed as they walked away. "We thought everything was going to be fine. She wasn't high risk…so close to viability. I never noticed anything that made me concerned, her doctor wasn't concerned. We told…everyone about the baby. We had the room ready."

House was rubbing his face while they continued to walk down the pavement. Wilson nudged House's arm with his elbow and asked, "So you just…said that for a…reaction?"

"I already searched the home…then I ran some tests. I wanted an honest answer."

"Why'd you need to know so badly?" Wilson asked, the hurt still heavy in his voice.

"I didn't need to know. You needed to know."

* * *

Cuddy and Ann were enjoying a leisurely dinner at a new French restaurant that was one of Ann's favorites. Cuddy went to the restroom before they left to go dancing. Ann was uncharacteristically ready to go out. She was certainly enthusiastic about having fun, and any attempts to discuss serious matters were quickly pushed aside.

Cuddy was looking in the mirror, making quick adjustments to her hair and checking her makeup when the stall door behind her opened up and House emerged. She yelped a surprised and confused little scream and then said, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Peeing," he said as he walked to the sink.

"In the ladies room in a restaurant you weren't eating in?" she questioned until she got a better look at him. "Your face?" she asked with concern as she stepped closer to him to study the emerging bruise along his cheek and eye.

"A band of thieves attacked us when our defenses were down. They wanted to carry Wilson off and have their way with him."

"Wilson hit you after a tactless comment?"

House chuckled, "Not entirely tactless."

Her expression skeptically requested clarification.

"OK, pretty tactless, but not without purpose."

Cuddy was cupping his face in her hand. "When's the last time you were punched?" she asked, her voice gentle and concerned.

"It's been a really long time. I sort of forgot how much it hurts."

She chuckled, "I'm sure it does." She reached up, brushed her lips against his cheek and patted his chest. "Now why are you here?"

She stepped away and he pulled her back to him.

"I will not have sex with you here in this bathroom," she said firmly.

House opened his mouth and she stopped him again, "That includes oral sex."

He hugged her more tightly to his chest and she continued, "That includes an orgasm of any kind, so no matter what sort of way you try to work it…the answer is no."

"Why?" he asked, smirking.

"Because this location is not good, and Ann is waiting for me. I'm guessing Wilson is waiting for you, or did he ditch you after you said whatever you said before he punched you in the face?"

"He's waiting for me. Do you think he'd give up on love that easily?"

She rolled her eyes. "Then back to my previous question. Why are you here?"

"Did she say anything?" he asked.

"About their relationship? No."

"Mention divorce…separation…cheating?"

"You want me to betray a confidence?"

"I don't need specifics. I just want to know how bad things are."

"House, she hasn't said a thing about it. Every time I ask what's going on, or if they are OK, she deflects to the next thing. She's definitely in the mood to have some fun…which is kinda weird."

"OK," House nodded in thought.

"Did you figure anything out?"

"You want me to betray a confidence?" he asked, using her own words from moments earlier.

"Fine," she answered, "We're finishing up dinner here and then we're going-"

He leaned down, kissed her with surprising affection, and then said, "Don't tell me. It's more fun if I have to find you."

She smiled and returned to the mirror to correct her makeup, and then a realization hit her, "House, where are the kids?"

"Strategically placed in bathrooms around the city looking for you."

She smirked and faced him, waiting.

"With Celia," he said, quickly kissing her lips one last time before retreating to the door.

"I'll see you later?" she asked, "In a bathroom somewhere else?"

"Never can tell!" he announced happily as he left the room.


	21. Glass

_A/N-Thank you so much to everyone who is still with the story, and to all of you who reviewed since last time: housebound, JLCH, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, KiwiClare, OldSFfan, LapizSilkwood, IWuvHouse, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, partypantscuddy, Mon Fogel, Olivia and the Guest reviewer._

_Next week, I'll be back to Monday, Wednesday and Friday updates, like normal. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update Friday or Saturday this week, but I'll try. _

_This chapter begins with the flashback._

* * *

_**-2006 Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital-**_

_Cuddy had seen House limping more cautiously around the hospital than normal. The depth of his pain was obvious in his eyes, in the tension written across his face. He was moving slowly across the parking lot, hoping more than anything that he'd soon hear the tired creak of his car door that would remind him that he made it, and could finally sit down. Getting into his apartment would be a whole new challenge, but at that moment, he just wanted to clear the enormous expanse of macadam between the spot in which he stood and the parking space where his car waited. _

_Cuddy's car pulled up in front of him, she reached across to the passenger's door and pushed it open._

"_Is running down cripples a new sport?" he complained._

"_Get in," she commanded._

"_I'm off the clock, you'll have to go through your regular escort service if you want…serviced."_

"_Get in," she demanded more sternly._

"_What do you want?" he asked, tired, pained and frustrated._

"_I want you…to get in the car."_

"_Why?"_

"_You're in that much pain and you are going to stand there and argue with me?"_

_He shrugged, refusing to get into the car without more information._

"_I'll take you home," she offered. _

"_Desperate for a manly presence?"_

"_I can see you're in more pain than normal. I'll take you to your apartment. I can either swing by and pick you up in the morning, or I'll have Wilson come get you."_

_He pondered dozens of smart and witty comebacks, but the truth of the matter was that the pain in his leg was excruciating. He wasn't entirely sure that he would be able to drive once he made it to his car._

_He dropped himself into her passenger's side seat and pulled his cane into the vehicle, unable to mask the small sigh of relief that escaped his lips when some of the pressure in his leg was relieved._

_Once he closed the door, Cuddy drove off without further comment. When they pulled up to his doorstep, he tried to think of a way to get rid of her before she watched him struggle up the few steps to his front door. Before he could even begin to present his argument, she was out the door and walking around to his side of the car. She opened the door and leaned down, "Come on, this is the end of the ride."_

_He looked up at her, "Why are you doing this?"_

"_Making you get out of the car?" _

"_Driving me home"_

"_I already told you," she answered with frustration, leaning down to speak to him, offering him a largely unencumbered look down her shirt. "You look like you're in pain. I know you don't want me around when you're like this…hell, I know you don't want me around…ever…but once I have you settled, I'll go."_

_His eyes lingered on her cleavage, finding it simpler to allow her to feel like she was being objectified than to let on that he was considering what to do next. _

_She stood up, extending a hand down toward him. He ignored the offered hand, stood as confidently as he could, and brushed past her. He got through the outer door, which Cuddy pushed shut and she saw the last few steps were horribly painful. She walked up to him, grabbing his free arm and pulling it over her shoulders. He scowled at her and she huffed, "Can we just drop the mandatory antagonism for a few minutes? Let me get you inside," she said as she took the keys from his hand to unlock the door._

_He thought that, if he wasn't in such pain, she probably would have felt good next to him. Her body was thin, yet curvy, strong for someone of her size, but was unmistakably feminine. He began thinking about what she'd feel like on top of him, wondering if some part of her wanted to make her way back into his bed. It had been ages since they'd been that close for that long. His mind drifted unstoppably further into the thought of sleeping with her. She looked up toward him, she was saying something, and just for a few seconds, his mind was completely lost in the tempting shape of her lips, in the way that they moved when she spoke. He started to wonder what they'd feel like, moving against his own lips, or what they'd look like if she was moaning his name. "Dammit, House can you walk or not?" she asked with frustration at his inattention, breaking his trance and sending pain hurdling back into his consciousness. _

"_Yes," he answered. "I do this all of the time without your _help_."_

_He took a few steps and followed her lead as she stopped to shut the door, her breast briefly brushing his torso as she moved next to him and helped him to the sofa. He sighed with relief, tipping his head back onto the furniture. She handed him two Vicodin and went to get water from his kitchen, scowling her disapproval when she returned with a glass and realized that he had already dry swallowed the pills. He drifted into sleep for a few moments from exhaustion alone. _

_When he woke from his brief nap, he heard Cuddy still moving in his kitchen. The Vicodin was finally cutting through the pain, so he grabbed his cane, stood, and took the few steps to the kitchen. She was drying her hands on a towel after she did the few dishes that were in his sink and, from the looks of his trash can, it appeared that she had thrown out the spoiled items from his refrigerator. "Haven't had time to do much cooking," he commented._

_She smiled quickly and said, "Are you going to eat?"_

"_Why are you asking?"_

"_Because I want to know if you are hungry"_

"_Stop…feeling guilty"_

"_I'm not feeling guilty."_

"_So you pick up a lot of employees on their way home…do their dishes, offer to cook for them?"_

"_I'm not going to cook for you. But I'll call in your order if you want something."_

"_But it's not a guilt thing?"_

"_No, House. You looked hurt. I wanted to help."_

"_Bullshit"_

"_You're right. It's all part of my plan. Take you back to your place, feed you, let the drugs kick in, and then have my way with you repeatedly because I'm just that desperate for a date."_

_"I knew it."_

"_See, this is why we can't be friends," she said._

"_Because you are consumed by your desire to have sex with me?"_

"_No," she chuckled bitterly, "We can't be friends because you can't let your guard down for ten minutes and let me help you."_

"_You don't want to help me…"_

"_I do. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I do."_

"_You feel guilty because you feel responsible for the fact that I'm in constant pain."_

"_Can't I just want to help you?"_

"_Because you pity me?"_

"_Forget this," she said, tossing the small towel onto the counter. She went into the living room, looking around the floor for the shoes that she kicked off shortly after arriving. _

"_Finally leaving?" he asked._

"_Working on it"_

"_Thank god. I was worried I'd wake up in the morning and you'd still be here. I can't imagine any man waking up next to you day after day."_

"_Don't worry, House, you won't be waking up with me, I'm definitely ready to get out of here."_

"_I didn't want you here in the first place. You were the one who forced yourself in here. Pressured me into letting you drive."_

"_And I'm trying to leave."_

"_Anything I can do to help in your currently failed attempt at leaving?"_

"_Why can't you let me help you?" she asked as she walked over and faced him._

"_I don't know what the price will be."_

"_There is no price."_

"_Of course there is."_

"_I wish you'd stop treating me like an enemy."_

"_You first"_

"_I don't treat you like an enemy."_

"_Are you…really sure about that?" he questioned skeptically._

"_I'm still your boss. I still have to sometimes say or do things that you are going to hate."_

"_I'm not talking about work," he said, limping directly into her personal space and watching the way she refused to move away. _

"_Then what?"_

"_Did you find a donor?"_

"_Which donor are you offended that I approached now? I run a hospital. We need money if you and the other doctors and staff want to continue to get paid."_

"_Not that kind of donor"_

"_That's none of your business," she replied defiantly._

"_You made it my business. You showed up, asking me to help you."_

"_And thank you for what you did. Now thank you for forgetting it ever happened."_

"_So you show up, ask me to look at donors, ask me to help you with the IVF because I'm the one you trust, and then you don't trust me enough to let me know what happened. Why'd you let me in and then shut me out?"_

"_You're pissed that I didn't choose you. Again, obviously a huge mistake I made. It would have been so fun to tell my kid one day that her donor was a fucking brilliant physician, the greatest medical mind of my lifetime…but he was a train wreck who was shot or imprisoned or died in his apartment after a drug overdose because he refused to see what's right in front of him."_

"_What is it that's right in front of me? All that I see in front of me is someone who sees me as a friend of convenience. Someone who's more interested in her reputation and her hospital than any person she's near. You are the one who is blind to what's in front of them. Not me."_

"_What's in front of me, House?" she said, so softly she wasn't even sure if she said it or thought it._

"_What?" he barked with irritation._

_She stood more upright, looking him right in the eye, "Tell me…what's in front of me that I'm not seeing?"_

_His body language seemed calm, distracted from his pain by the conflict in front of him, but she could see in his eyes the evidence of panic. His eyes were anxiously searching her face while he tried to decide what he wanted to say. _

"_There are people who care about you. You just don't see it," she said with certainty._

"_Neither do you."_

"_Tell me what you want," she requested. _

"_Tell me what _you _want," he volleyed back._

"_I want to know what you're thinking. That is what I want."_

_His lips tensed finally when he found his answer, and his resolve. "I'm thinking that I want you to leave me alone. I want you to go home."_

_Her head tilted to the side and she sighed out, some of the tension abandoning her once they were in familiar territory. "Are we always going to do this? Is this…how we are always going to be?" she asked._

_The tension seemed to leave him as well, and the pain in his leg pummeled his nerve endings once again. He winced from the pain from multiple sources and nodded, "People don't change, Cuddy."_

_She nodded. Without saying another word, she readied herself and was out the door. House limped to the window and watched her. She rushed to her car, jerking the door closed once she was inside, and he could see her drop her head into her hands as he peered through her windshield from the safety of his apartment. She sat up, turned the keys in the ignition, and steadily thumped the steering wheel with frustration. He leaned his hand on the cold glass of the large front window of his apartment, realizing that there would likely never be a day where he didn't feel the need to push her away, while wishing he could pull her closer and keep her there. It was about protecting himself, about protecting her, about sanity, and sadly in its own way, even then, it was about love. _

_His steely resolve shifted as he felt the weight of his cell phone in his pocket, and thought for a moment that maybe he should call her. Maybe he should invite her back inside, thank her for her kindness, allow her to see his appreciation and his concern for her in return without a heavy protective veil. His mind jolted with confusion when he saw her hand flip the keys back, turning off the car and opening her door. He felt excited and terrified, but certain that he wanted to try to have a conversation with her that didn't involve deflection. She was walking back toward his apartment, and he felt the strangest tingling of hope that, perhaps, in spite of the mess his life was in at that moment, maybe she could see _him_ through the haze. Maybe he could see _her_ and allow her to know that he did indeed know her. _

_She tossed her hair back from her shoulders confidently, her face as stern and certain as he thought his own must have been. One high-heeled foot planted itself on the bottom step and then she stopped. Her other foot lifted, just barely, up off of the sidewalk, and then she stopped. She sunk back down onto her foot without progressing forward. She looked up at his outer door, nervously rubbing the palm of one hand while she thought. Her resolution left her face before she slowly turned around, and he felt his hope sink into the ever present inevitability of loneliness and pain. _

_He felt deflated as his fingers tapped the glass of his window, and he watched her calmly get back into her car, turn the key in the ignition, and leave._

* * *

After walking back to Wilson's place from the bar, House took his friend's car and began to drive the two of them.

"How's your eye?" Wilson asked, sounding and looking guiltier as time passed.

"You aren't that tough," House scoffed.

"I kicked your ass," Wilson teased proudly.

"No…I've had my ass kicked. That was not an ass kicking…more like a playful, friendly pinch on the cheeks."

Wilson sneered his disagreement and fell quiet. After driving for some time he asked, "Why do you think that you and Cuddy work now when you spent so much time…hating each other?"

"Because she has an insatiable sexual appetite and does whatever I tell her to, when I tell her to do it, without ever questioning my ultimate authority."

Wilson stared doubtfully at him. "I'm going to ask her about that. Can you please be serious about this? You're willing to dig through all of my current life…I just want you to be honest about this."

"I don't know, Wilson. We didn't hate each other. We are…honest. We try to be. I guess we just…finally accepted that certain things about each other were…just who we are…we started to appreciate the differences, and then we each tried to make concessions in the places where we really needed to make concessions."

"What things did you accept about each other?"

House sighed, "If Cuddy wasn't…so…Cuddy…well…we wouldn't have great jobs, and a clean home. Not _that _clean. She's…motherly…that's good for the kids. She makes sure none of us get hurt. She's a…moderating factor that helps to reign in insane behavior. Because, me and the kids…we'd probably get a little crazy without her. The woman can make…anything happen. She takes…ideas…and makes them real things. Real things that won't kill us."

"And what about you? What has she accepted about you?"

"Cuddy learned to have fun. Because without me, she and the kids would be too cautious. They'd…sit and worry and be bored. She trusts my instincts. I come up with a lot of the ideas…that she in turn makes real things. If the kids wanted to build a rocket… I'd come up with how to build it, but if it was just up to me, I'd want to go all out. Probably end up with a huge rocket and an amazing explosion…that would also blow my fucking fingers off. If it was just up to Cuddy, there'd be no fire, no explosion…and the fucking rocket would sit safely on the ground. For some reason at the intersection of me and Cuddy is…a decent rocket launch _and_ ten fingers per person."

"So, what do you think Ann and I need to learn to accept about each other?"

"She needs to accept the fact that you're more of a woman than she is," House sneered.

"A woman who kicked your ass."

"One punch does not an ass kicking make…"

"Wait…House…where are we going?"

"To continue gathering evidence."

"Where?" Wilson asked as he saw them pulling in to their next location. "You can't possibly be serious!" he yelled.

"Of course I'm serious," House answered calmly as he looked at the approaching gate and check point.

"It's a pharmaceutical company. You think you can just…walk right up there?"

"They know you, right?"

"Yea, but…they have secrets and guards…"

House huffed and rolled his eyes as they pulled up to the guard shack at Ann's corporate office. House calmly introduced himself, and pointed to Wilson, mentioning that Ann, an executive at the company who was well known by all of the staff, was ill and needed her husband to get a few things from her office to take home. Wilson signed in, he was allowed access anyway as a member of the family and a doctor who occasionally did consulting work for the company.

When they pulled in, Wilson sighed, "What do you think Ann's going to say when she finds out we were here?"

"That part's your problem. I can't do everything for you," House said, as happy as he was intrigued by the puzzle before him.

"This is my marriage we're talking about here. I don't want to do anything to make things worse."

"Five minutes. We'll be in and out in five minutes."

"I don't want to fuck this up," Wilson said seriously. "The thing is…you don't remember, do you? What it's like to be alone. What it's like to want something so badly, and not be able to have it."

The happy expression slipped from House's face and he patted the glass of the car window with his hand, resting it there and feeling the cold transfer from the smooth surface to his skin. "I have a lot. I don't spend every moment imagining that it's going to end anymore. But…I have spent more years wanting Cuddy than I've spent having her. I spent a long time alone. After years of being with her, not a single day goes by when I don't remember the wanting. There's always something, at some point during the day, that makes me remember the way things were. Because, even though I don't focus on the potential absence of everything that I have, I still understand what it would be like if it all went away. I know what you stand to lose."

Wilson nodded, smiling his understanding and appreciation. "Then let's go," he said, opening the door and waiting while the smile returned to House's face.

House tapped the window with his fingertips one more time before moving his hand to the door handle, and then chimed in, "Let's go!"


	22. Going Out

_A/N-Thanks to everyone who offered me their thoughts since last time: IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, TheHouseWitch, dmarchl21, Boo's House, Suzieqlondon, BJAllen815, ClareBear14, southpaw2, Abby, Alex, CaptainK8, HuddyGirl, LapizSilkwood, Mon Fogel and the anonymous Guest reviewers._

_-The flashback here is the few hours right before the beginning of Too Lost. I hope that's not confusing. This chapter's also really heavy on the flashback. _

* * *

Cuddy and Ann walked into the club after dinner, music pounding in their ears that was echoed physically by the wave of body parts in silhouette against the bright lights behind them. It was a sight once so familiar to Cuddy that later seemed lifetimes and lifestyles away from anywhere she really wanted to be.

"What are we doing here?" Cuddy asked as they leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender to approach them. "Is this a mid-life crisis?"

"Maybe," Ann answered, happily bouncing to the music and placing orders when the bartender approached.

Ann carried their drinks to a high top table. "To mid-life crises!" Ann toasted. she surveyed the room and then added, "Isn't this great?"

Cuddy nodded, chuckling, "I don't really remember the last time I was in a place like this."

Cuddy's hesitance slowly started to fade as she felt the music calling to her, as she remembered the fun of dancing anonymously in a crowd of people all compelled by the same beats and tones. Ann said, excitedly, "You wanna dance or you wanna watch everyone else dance?"

Cuddy tossed back her drink in a way that would have made House proud, and nodded toward the crowd. "Let's go!"

Cuddy felt the excitement gripping her as she began dancing as naturally as anything. She saw Ann backing away from the spot where the two of them were dancing toward a man nearby. Cuddy started to wonder how much of the trip was about two friends letting loose and dancing, and how much of it was about Ann trying to feel alive and desired once again. When the beat dropped to a more sensual song, Cuddy got Ann's attention to let her know that she was leaving the floor. She walked back to the same table, leaning casually while she checked her phone for messages and wondered what House and Wilson were doing. "Hey," Cuddy heard from behind her. "Wanna dance?"

Cuddy smiled at the man, wrinkled her face, and shook her head, "No, thanks."

"You look bored, come dance."

"I look bored because I am…_exceedingly_ boring."

"I doubt that," the man said flirtatiously.

Cuddy smiled, "Well, even if I'm not exceedingly boring…I _am_ exceedingly married."

He looked at her suspiciously and she held up her left hand, pushing her ring forward on her finger with her thumb so that he'd see it. "It's not a blow off," she said nicely, "I just really am married."

The guy smiled and nodded, "Can I buy you a drink?"

Cuddy looked at him questioningly, so he explained, "I'm forty-eight years old, very recently divorced," the man confessed. "I'm here on business with a group of guys who are single, who thought this would be fun for me. It isn't."

Cuddy smiled, "Just relax, get out there and have fun."

"I don't know if I know how to do that anymore."

"You do. Believe me, you remember."

They talked about his divorce, about the changes life sometimes brings. The man was polite, a gentleman while they spoke, and Cuddy was happy to have someone to talk to while she waited. "Not to be rude," he asked after a break in conversation, "but since your friend is single, what's she like? You think she'd be good for me?"

Cuddy prepared to tell the man that Ann was married also, that she was just letting off some steam, but when she turned, she saw Ann dancing somewhat suggestively with a different man than the one she had been dancing with earlier.

Cuddy winced, "She's married too."

"You sure?"

"Yea," Cuddy nodded, "I'm sure. And I better go make sure she's sure too."

He smiled at her, "Are you…absolutely sure you are _exceedingly_ married?"

"I'm sure."

"So you really like the guy? He's a good fit for you?"

"Buddy," she said with a long pause, and then lit up with a wide grin, "You have no idea."

He held out his hand, "It was a pleasure."

Cuddy walked out onto the dance floor, taking Ann by the hand and leading her off the floor. Ann was already partially intoxicated, and it seemed was interested in drinking herself into a state of complete drunkenness. Cuddy practically dragged Ann from the club for a diner only a few blocks away. Ann leaned against Cuddy while they walked. "Don't you ever want…to fuck somebody less complicated?" Ann slurred.

Cuddy chuckled at her obviously inebriated friend.

Ann leaned a little closer to Cuddy for balance. "I'm mean, don't you want someone who you didn't just have to bitch at to do the thing you just asked him to do fifty fucking times."

Cuddy chuckled, "You're a bit drunker than I thought."

"No, I'm not," Ann said belligerently, and then giggled, "OK, so I am a bit drunk."

"Yea, a bit," Cuddy said, smiling.

"Wait…but what about the fucking… and the bitching?"

Cuddy smiled uncomfortably at the obviously embarrassed couple walking past them. "Keep it down a little. Unless you want to share this conversation with the entire tri-county area."

"Don't you get tired of that?"

"I try to avoid bitching while fucking," Cuddy joked, trying to keep the conversation light. "Sure…fucking then bitching…or bitching then fucking…it's just way too much multitasking to do everything all at once."

Cuddy was relieved when Ann melted into giggles, the last thing she wanted was an angry or weepy drunk woman hanging on her arm while they navigated the streets after dark. While the giggling was a good sign, it was also making it more difficult for Cuddy to easily lead her to the diner. "You are so funny. But you know what I mean," Ann said.

Cuddy stopped Ann at the bottom of the first of three steps into the all night diner. "Ann," Cuddy said diplomatically, "You're gonna get arrested for public drunkenness."

Ann laughed harder.

"Are you OK?" Cuddy asked. "You seem…drunker than you should be. Did someone hold a drink for you…or bring you one you didn't buy yourself?"

Ann's laughing began to fade and she tilted her head. "He's got someone else," Ann said calmly.

"Are you sure?" Cuddy asked, quickly catching up to the shift in conversation.

Ann's chest began to rise with welling emotion, "I wanted to…show him. I wanted to show him that…men still like me. I figured I could at least… go into the club and find some guy to screw around with in some improper location. At least give a hand job. The funny thing is…I didn't really want to go through with any of it. I was…relieved when you came to get me. I can't believe I didn't want to go through with it."

"I don't know if that would actually _help_ your situation."

"Men still like me…don't they?" Ann asked insecurely.

"They certainly seem to," Cuddy said. "You really have nothing to worry about."

"Then why does he need someone else?"

"Are you sure he has someone else?"

"No," Ann admitted. "He's gone all of the time. He's secretive. Uninterested."

"Doesn't mean he's cheating. Did you ask him?"

"No," Ann conceded. "Not directly."

Ann burst into tears, leaning down on Cuddy. Ann was absolutely statuesque. Her height, coupled with the level of intoxication, made comforting her on the sidewalk awkward. When she calmed a bit, Cuddy took her inside the diner and they sat down. After they ordered, Cuddy folded her hands on the table in front of her. "This is one of those times when you have choices to make."

"I know," Ann whispered.

"If it doesn't matter to you anymore, then…let it go. We'll go back to the club, and you can find some stranger, give hand jobs in a car…whatever you want. But from the way you're acting…the way you're crying…I think it matters."

"Of course it matters," Ann said adamantly.

"Then quit dancing around each other, and figure out what in the hell's going on. Before it's so late that whatever it takes to fix it will be almost unfathomable."

* * *

_**- Too Lost Prologue -the day before Cuddy went to Kate's bar to find House**_

_Wilson and Ann warmly greeted Cuddy when she arrived at their place. They were giving her a key to their second home in the Outer Banks for a few days away. That Friday, Ann intended on taking Cuddy out to try to distract her troubled mind for a few hours before sending her on her way. Cuddy was numb. She was constantly unfeeling in those days, though it had been six months since Rachel had died. _

_Wilson and Ann showed Cuddy pictures of the vacation home, hoping to get a happy response, but Cuddy barely spoke. After an hour of attempting conversation and prompting only stilted, one- or two-word responses from the vacant woman in front of them, Ann jumped up, "Let's get ready! Tonight, just you me…just the girls!"_

_Cuddy nodded as she stared ahead. They went to their respective rooms to get ready. Ann emerged a half an hour later and knocked on Cuddy's door. Ann was dressed nicely, pregnant with her son Adam at the time. When Cuddy opened the door, she was wearing the same pair of jeans and loose shirt that she had arrived wearing. Cuddy touched up her makeup, a habit that was practically innate, but she didn't change her hair. After joining her friend, she pressed her lips tightly in a move that Ann thought was supposed to represent a smile._

_Before they left, Cuddy's phone rang, and she stepped away from her friends to talk to the caller privately in the kitchen. "Cuddy," she answered in monotone._

"_Hey, Cuddy…Lisa…how are you?" the man asked._

"_Who is this?"_

"_Mitchell Dorman, former head of cardiology from Princeton-Plainsboro."_

"_Oh. Hi. Do you need a reference, or…"_

_Dorman fumbled for a second, he seemed to have been anticipating a more jovial reception. "I heard about your daughter…I'm sorry."_

"_Thanks, Dorman," Cuddy said while she turned jars of spices on a rack in the kitchen so that they were facing neatly forward. "Anyway, what do you need?"_

"_Well, I…" Dorman fumbled again, regretting the call to his former employer, and trying to decide what he was going to tell her. "Look, Lisa, I have an interesting piece of news. Or…at least amusing. I wasn't sure if you'd want to know or not."_

"_Yea," she answered blandly, "What is it?"_

"_My daughter is in school in Philly…at Hahnemann. I went to see her last week."_

"_Congratulations," Cuddy answered, assuming he was calling as a proud father._

"_Oh, well…thanks. But my call is a bit more gossipy," he waited for Cuddy to answer, and we she didn't, he elected to continue. "I won't keep you long, I just wanted to let you know that I stopped at this bar, my daughter took me there for dinner…this dive in Jersey right across the river from Philly."_

_Cuddy remained silent._

"_Well, Lisa, the food was great, but the really interesting thing was who they have on staff. Guess who works there?"_

_Cuddy pulled the nutmeg down from the spice rack and brushed the excess powder off of the lid with her index finger before replacing the container, "Who?"_

"_House"_

_Cuddy straightened two more jars before she reacted, her face expressing confusion, one of the first real emotions she'd expressed in ages. "What?" she asked, almost loudly._

"_Greg House. Your former…head of diagnostics…"_

"_I know who he is," she snipped._

"_Yea. Wouldn't really forget that, would you?" Dorman said, trying to be funny and noting immediately that his joke wasn't appreciated. He laughed uncomfortably, and then attempted to recover, "He's a bartender."_

"_A bartender?"_

"_Yea. Same old bastard he always was. He was pissing off customers and scowling from behind that nasty scruff."_

_Cuddy's hand fell from her task as she stared ahead. "Are you sure it's him?" she asked._

_It had been three years since she'd seen him. Three years since he handed her a hairbrush as the dust settled in her partially demolished home. _

"_Of course it's him! It isn't like there's another House out there," Dorman stated with certainty.  
_

_Cuddy nodded, eyes widening momentarily in agreement, "Fair enough."_

"_Anyway, I thought it was funny. He was always such a condescending jerk, I thought you might get a kick out of it. Thought it might make you happy."_

"_Why would it make me happy to know that a great doctor is wasting his brilliance pouring shots?" she asked bluntly._

"_I…umm," she could hear Dorman thinking, "He is your ex…"_

"_I do actually remember that as well, but thanks for the history lesson."_

"_Well, thought you might feel…you know…nevermind. But, at least now you know. If you want to avoid him, or…"_

"_Yea," she answered as her mind whirled and clicked, trying to process the information that was as shocking as it was perplexing. _

"_You want the name of the bar? You could go see for yourself…get a laugh."_

_She thought for a few seconds, shaking her head adamantly although she remained silent at first. Finally she decided, "I think not. I'll take your word for it."_

"_Suit yourself. I sure thought it was funny. Guess he got knocked down a peg or two."_

"_I guess so," she answered._

"_Well, it was nice talking to you. Call any time, if there's anything I can do…at all…"_

"_Yea, thanks"_

"_Sure. Well, I guess I'll see you around at some point."_

_Cuddy could almost hear him pulling the phone away from his head to hang up when she stopped him, "Hey, Dorman?" she asked._

"_Yea"_

"_Text me the name of the bar… and the street that it's on…if you have it. Just in case."_

"_Sure thing. You should go, I think you'll get a charge out of it."_

"_Yea," she said, absently as she hit the button to end the call._

_She walked back out into the living room from the kitchen, finding Wilson sitting on the sofa alone. "Everything OK?" he asked._

"_Yea, fine," she said, her voice already empty and flat again._

"_Who was that?"_

"_Dorman. Cardiology."_

"_Yea, I remember him," Wilson answered. "I haven't heard from him in years, what in the hell did he want?"_

_Cuddy glanced at Wilson, considering sharing the news and then deciding against it. She shook her head for a second, "Just…catching up…" she decided to answer._

_Ann and Cuddy went to dinner, Ann discussing the coming baby, the changes made to the nursery, and the childbirth classes she would soon be taking with her husband. During the entirety of the conversation, Cuddy mumbled only two words, one 'yes' and one 'yellow,' which she only offered because they were answers to direct questions. Desperate to engage her friend, Ann switched to work, discussing drug trials and the challenges of being a woman in a position of power in the workplace, and Cuddy still kept her answers as simple and succinct as possible. _

_All that Cuddy could hear in her head was the static-like throb of constant missing. There wasn't a single moment of any day that wasn't resting on top of the emptiness that she felt. She had nothing. Her daughter, the one person she felt she would have for the remainder of her life, was gone. She wasn't in a relationship, she often considered the fact that she never had a successful long term relationship in her adult life. All of her relationships fizzled out well before the two year mark. Her job running clinics in Baltimore was hardly the type she could disappear behind like she could during her days as Dean. Even the deep, gnawing, sharp pain of sadness that she had felt immediately after Rachel's loss had abandoned her. _

_The longer Ann spoke, the more Cuddy tried unsuccessfully to focus on the incessant droning of the woman. She knew Ann wanted to help, but Cuddy mustered all of the response that she could. She answered direct questions, hoping that she was supplying the correct answers, because she had little comprehension of the discussion. _

_All evening, her mind kept replaying Dorman's words. She knew where House was. After years of complete uncertainty while she tried to convince herself that she didn't even think of him anymore, she had an actual address. The last time she knew an exact physical location was when he was serving his sentence in jail. After his release, he disappeared from her radar. _

_She thought of him, far more often than she'd ever admit. Scarcely a day went by when he didn't cross her mind for one reason or another. _

_She knew contacting him would be a huge mistake. There was so much drama and sadness in her life, and contacting House, a man who was almost always miserable, seemed like a gigantic mistake. She knew their mutual misery and sadness would quickly turn into deeper pain and mutual wounding. The man had assaulted her, she repeated in her head. Underneath all of her justifications and rationalizations, she still felt guilty for the way things had ended between them. The one thing she knew, no matter what, contacting him was, without any sort of doubt, a gigantic mistake. There was no way she should ever purposefully stand in front of Gregory House again. _

_Cuddy was staring off at a group of men in their twenties by the restaurant bar, wondering what House would look like, working on the other side. She wondered which of them would have irritated House the most, and began imagining exactly what he would say about each of them when asked. Cuddy was just beginning to think that House wouldn't like the one who was subtly trying to check her out, when Ann tapped her arm and said loudly, "You need a fling."_

_Cuddy shook her head, "I really don't."_

"_You do. You need to get laid. Two of them keep looking over here," Ann said, nodding toward the younger men at the bar. "You're single…maybe they're single. They're young…so near their prime. You can't tell me that you don't think it would be fun?"_

_Cuddy shrugged, "Not much in the mood for a date."_

"_Who said anything about a date? I'm talking about sex. Ripping clothes, biting, screaming…orgasms. You need those things."_

_One of the men turned from the bar and locked eyes with Cuddy. He was tall, lanky, unkempt, yet handsome. She had no reaction when their eyes met. There was no underlying excitement or thrill in making contact with him. The longer she sat there, the more she realized that if she closed her eyes or used a little imagination, she could easily pretend. The man was the right build, had a scruffy face and he definitely seemed interested. Even if she shouldn't see House, if she shouldn't invite him into her life, was there really anything wrong with fantasizing about the man?_

_Less than two hours after Cuddy heard House's name again, she was considering picking up a significantly younger man to use as a stand-in for the most troubling man in her history. The younger man smiled and approached. _

"_Holy shit," Ann said happily, "That one's coming over here. Don't worry about me…go get laid, I'll see you later at our place."_

_Cuddy's eyes shifted between Ann and the approaching man. When he arrived at their table he smiled and Ann excused herself for the bathroom. "Hi," he said flirtatiously, "I'm Dave."_

"_Lisa," Cuddy said, instantly judging the man while she shook his hand._

_His voice was too high. His body language, too gentle. His eyes, too brown. His hands, too soft._

_Dave flirted for a few moments and he said, "Can I interest you in going out some time?"_

_She looked up at him, "I'm not really looking for date."_

"_OK," the man answered, nodding. "I'm a nice guy."_

_She winced. "Look," said, arranging her utensils on her napkin. "I'm not looking for nice…or romance. I'm basically just talking to you so my friend stops annoying me."_

_The younger man's eyes grew wide, "You don't want nice?" he asked laughing. "Is this a joke?"_

_He looked at Cuddy's face, which was completely emotionless. "It's not a joke."_

"_Wow, you are really…direct."_

"_You came over here," she shrugged, still without any sort of kindness or interest displayed._

"_Right, I did. I guess I mean that…you don't mince words."_

_She still stared ahead. She figured Ann wouldn't easily give up on her quest to get Cuddy laid, as if sex she didn't want to have, with someone she didn't want to have it with, was going to help a broken heart. Her mind vaguely tried to tell her body that a night with the guy probably would feel…good._

_The man leaned down, his face, right next to hers, his lips only centimeters away. "I like women who know what they want. You are…really beautiful…you have an amazing body. So, if you aren't interested in a date…what about a hook up? No strings. Two consenting adults…"_

"_OK," she sighed._

"_Not exactly the resounding 'yes' I was hoping to hear," he chuckled._

"_Sorry," she answered, sounding anything but. "I'm game if you are."_

_He stared at her, waiting for her to make eye contact. She saw his eyes drift to her lips and he whispered, "Let's get outta here."_

_She finally made and held eye contact, and she opened her mouth just a bit, carefully selecting the words in her mind that she was going to say. She felt like she should say something that would jolt him toward arousal, something that would fill him with want, and then she let her eyes linger on his. She tried to imagine herself wrapping her legs around him, seeing this man fucking her, watching him watching her. But she didn't feel what she thought she'd feel. She didn't feel the want. There was no excited pulse between her legs, no warm sensation of desire, no excitement at the thought of him touching her. There was still absolute nothing. _

_She bit her lip, initially hoping to look sexy, and then she just stopped. She dropped her forehead onto her fingers and she shook her head, "Look, Dan…Dave," she corrected, "I'm sorry, you said your name is Dave…I'm…having a bad day."_

"_I can make it better," he offered._

_She forced a smile, "I just…don't feel like it. Not tonight."_

"_You're kidding? Come on, don't do that. I told you, I'm fine with it being just casual. I'm drug free…into safety…and I…am really, really good in bed."_

"_I'm sure you are," she said, sounding patronizing unintentionally. "I'm sorry, I just…like I said, I don't feel like it."_

_When she said that, he leaned down quickly, brushed his lips against hers, obviously thinking that the move would entice her, but instead she felt filled with revulsion. The thought of this man hovering over her, panting and grunting, made her feel sick. She almost cursed House's name out loud for the audacity of being on her mind while she was rejecting the obviously attractive man right in front of her. _

"_Are you OK?" he asked._

"_Yup," she answered, still without emotion. _

"_Someone fucked you up…bad," he said, attempting to convey his irritation._

"_You aren't the first person to suggest that," she answered, completely unoffended._

"_You are definitely one, icy bitch" he sneered. _

_She laughed a cold, empty, distant laugh, "Buddy, you have no idea."_

_By the time Ann returned to their table, Cuddy was paying the bill. "Where's the guy?" Ann asked._

"_Moving on," Cuddy said calmly. "I need to go for a run."_

_A baffled Ann went to bed when they arrived back home, and Wilson tried to stop Cuddy from going out at that hour, alone. Cuddy ignored his concerns and her feet were soon hitting and rebounding from the pavement in a rhythm that seemed reassuring, or at least familiar. _

_Her body moved without thought or coercion, and her heart was beating effortlessly. She knew this with complete certainty, because she knew that if it took any effort or conscious decision on her part to continue beating, it would cease its function immediately._

_The next day, when she got in her car, she briefly considered House again, making a rational, calm, simple decision to program her GPS for the Outer Banks. She stopped at the cemetery where Rachel was buried, talking out loud about the reality of knowing where House was, and she asked what the child thought she should do with the information she learned from Dorman. She couldn't help but feel that Rachel wanted her to go see the man, as if Rachel was jumping and clapping excitedly at the thought of a visit with a friend. She looked down at the tombstone and patted the top of it before she left, saying, "Rach, you just don't want me to be lonely," Cuddy sighed before walking away, "Love you."_

_As she sped down I-295 going south toward the Outer Banks, she started to see signs for Philadelphia._

_She didn't think when she pulled off of the highway into the New Jersey suburbs of Philly and heard the GPS recalculating and attempting to put her back on the proper path._

_She didn't think when she pulled her phone from her purse, located the text that Dorman had sent the day before with the name and location of the bar where House was working. _

_She didn't think when she reprogrammed the GPS to take her to the very location where House was._

_She didn't even think while she listened to the GPS as it calmly relayed the path she should take, now her ally in her plan to do the thing that she knew she shouldn't do. _

_She parked near the bar, staring at the old blue and green sign hanging in front of the door, and at the neon beer advertisements in the windows that were so real and vibrant that she could hear the steady hissing hum the signs made, even though she was sitting in her car far too many feet away with the windows tightly closed._

_She got out of the car, never feeling the ground beneath her shoes, still behaving without thought, or, it seemed to her, almost without any control or influence over her actions whatsoever. She paused only once, two squares of sidewalk away from the door. Her thoughts woke in her head as the insanity of her exact location felt alarmingly clear. _

_She turned, not completely around, only about ninety degrees, but she could hear it. She could hear Rachel encouraging her to swallow her fear, to walk into that bar, even if just to look. Turning back to the door, Cuddy felt queasy. She could hear her heart, less rhythmically, more sporadically jumping with nerves. Suddenly, the near whisper of Rachel in her mind and the thumping queasiness of her body made her feel the most distant sensation of being…alive. _

_It was barely there, like the feeling of a cotton ball being dropped on a sleeping person covered by a down comforter, but she knew it was there. Her hesitation began to drift away as she felt the realization creeping in her brain that Dorman said House was still House. She knew she could count on him for truth, even if it inflicted pain. He wouldn't try to convince her to sleep with a random pretty boy to make her feel better or look at her with eyes drenched in pity, and he certainly wouldn't refrain from saying whatever he needed to say. Pain, anxiety, fear…these were feelings. And feeling something, anything, was still feeling. She wanted to feel real. _

_She stepped slowly but decisively forward, put her hand on the door handle, and heard Rachel in her mind whispering with utter certainty, "Go inside."_

_The voice was as irrepressible as the stubborn perpetuation of her heartbeat. Cuddy took one more breath and went inside._


	23. Finishing the Investigation

_A/N-Thank you to all of the reviewers since the previous chapter: Suzieqlondon, KiwiClare, dmarchl21, jaybe61, Hspirito, Josam, OldSFfan, IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, Truth, Boo's House, Alex, CaptainK8, Abby, HuddyGirl, bladesmum, BJAllen815, siddigfan, victoria, Mon Fogel and the anonymous guest reviewers._

_No flashback this chapter._

* * *

House followed Wilson down the pristine hallway to the corner office with Ann's name on it. Wilson paused one more time before opening the door, "If she finds out we were here…"

House shouldered Wilson to the side, taking the keys from his friend's hand and unlocking the door. The inside of the office was elegant and professional, with fine finishes, leather sofas and expensive art work hanging on the walls. House looked through Ann's planner and inspected the items on the desk. When he found locked drawers, he pulled out his keys and found his lock picking set.

"You carry something to pick locks with on your regular key ring?" Wilson asked.

"Aren't you glad?"

"So you just…anticipate needing to break into something as part of your daily grind?"

"I anticipate everything. Yet another way that I'm exactly like a boy scout." House smiled with satisfaction as the lock released and he opened the top drawer.

"Yes…that's the first thing I'd call you."

"When do you ever anticipate being locked out? If you could always anticipate it, you'd remember your keys and you'd never be locked out."

Wilson hesitated, "It's just weird to assume you'll _need_ to break into something."

House shut the top drawer, opened the middle one, and stated with complete conviction, "You guys must be the most boring rich people on the planet."

"We're not…boring."

"You really are. You have yachts, summer homes, probably a helicopter hidden on the roof…and what do you do with it?"

"We're busy people."

"You need to take a break. When do you have fun?"

"We have fun."

"Doing what?"

"Stuff…we…go to the best restaurants, watch movies, we have the theater at home, every video game on the planet…it's like your dream!"

"So…where's the last place that you took your wife on a date?"

"Hospital benefit…three weeks ago," Wilson answered immediately.

"Work events don't count."

"Ummm…" House stared and waited while Wilson thought. "My god," Wilson said, "I don't know…we get…so busy, and…I…I dunno, do you think she wants to go out?"

"Do I think the woman you're with wants you to take her somewhere to show her that she matters?" House asked. "No, women hate to be cared about or paid attention to," he added sarcastically.

"Do you think maybe that's…the whole problem? Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Do you think it could be that simple?"

"Dunno. If it is, then it seems pretty stupid to let it all fall apart, doesn't it?"

Wilson walked around the room, pausing to stare at a picture on a bookshelf, facing away while House continued to investigate. "So, maybe I just need to try to do something, make a gesture to break the ice, show her I do care…try to talk about where we are. I mean, we used to talk a lot, but we don't anymore. If that's all it takes, it seems simple," Wilson said.

Wilson paused while staring at the bookshelf, waiting for House to say anything, to agree, tease, deny, deflect, anything, but House said nothing. Wilson turned to see what his friend was doing, and saw House staring at something in his hands. "What is it?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged, trying to appear calm.

"What is it?" Wilson persisted.

"It might not mean anything."

"_What_ might not mean anything?" Wilson asked, quickly walking to the desk and holding out his hand.

House pushed a stack of cards across the surface. Wilson opened the first one, a friendly card with a picture of snuggling kittens on the front. There was a simple message inscribed in sloppy writing within that stated, "That's what friends are for. Scott."

Wilson shrugged, "She _is _allowed to have friends."

House nodded, his eyes drifting down to the other cards on the desk. Wilson picked them up one at a time. There was a card thanking Ann for her assistance with a personal problem, a card wishing her luck in coping with work, but the final card was the one that seemed the most worrisome. The card with a picture designed to look like hand-drawn flowers said, "You are always there for me. Let me be there for you. Houston…Say YES. Scott."

"What happened in Houston?" House asked.

"Last month. She was at a conference for four days in Houston."

Wilson stared at the card, obviously shaken. House said, "At least it doesn't say, 'Glad you said yes.' I mean, that could mean anything. And even if he _is_ offering, just because he's offering doesn't mean she's accepting."

"But then why save the card?" Wilson inquired, shaking his head. "If it's someone who she isn't even remotely interested in, then there's no reason to keep it."

"If he's hanging around your woman, you need to step up."

"Like you would?" Wilson asked doubtfully.

"Yes," House said with blunt directness.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely"

"What would you do then, if we left here, and went back to my place and you found out _your_ wife…if you found out _Cuddy_ was sleeping with another man."

"She isn't."

"What if she was?"

"Cuddy and I don't spend all that much time apart, so I'm guessing that whoever she could find time to screw must unload really fast. Which would, in turn, send her running back to me anyway."

"You're deflecting."

"I'm not the one who is concerned that his wife is cheating."

"Another deflection…because you know that the very thought of her cheating kills you. I'm asking you to imagine how I feel."

"You don't know anything yet. We need to determine if anything has even happened."

"I want you to answer the question, House. What would you do if you found out Cuddy was cheating on you?"

House prepared to argue and then said, calmly, "I don't know. I'd be…really fucked up over it. I'd…probably try to see why it happened. I don't know if that would help…but, if there's any hope of fixing it, I'd need to know why she strayed in the first place."

"So if you knew she betrayed you, you could forgive her…you could work it out?" Wilson asked with disbelief.

"I…hate what my life was before her. I hate the concept, the memory, the possibility of being like that again. Maybe I'd try, I guess I'd have to decide if I could forgive her…and I can't guarantee that I would be able to. I just don't know."

"That's a lot to forgive."

"It is. Probably too much to forgive," House said in total agreement. "But, it's also a lot to walk away from. Possibly too much to walk away from."

Wilson nodded.

"Let's figure out what's going on before you need to make a decision like that," House suggested.

They walked out of the building in silence, nodded goodbye to the security guard posted at the door, and made their way to the car. After they got in, House said, "I used to worry about it all of the time. I used to wonder how she could be happy with someone like me. I tried to prove to her why she'd want to stay with me. Most women would never put up with me, but I try in my way. Over time, I stopped thinking about it, but I still try to show her why she wants to stay. It will always be partially about the worthiness…or…about the not-worthiness. I think my shrink would have said that's a bad thing…that a feeling of unworthiness is low self-esteem. Maybe it is…maybe it isn't. I have to trust Cuddy to know that about me, to not take advantage of it, and to actually see me as worthy, even when I don't."

"I see my wife as well more than _worthy_."

"Then I guess she's worth fighting for."

Wilson dropped his head back against the headrest in the car, "This can't be happening."

"Maybe it isn't. Maybe it's just enough to remind you of exactly how much you want what you want."

* * *

House pulled up to the diner, looking through the large windows and seeing Cuddy and Ann sitting at a booth at the front of the restaurant. He smirked his victory.

"How did you know they'd be here?" Wilson asked with astonishment.

"In certain circumstances, Cuddy is a highly predictable woman."

"We have to handle this delicately," Wilson pleaded. "I don't want to cause more problems."

"Of course," House said, in a voice artificially appalled, "When am _I_ not completely delicate?"

Wilson's eyes grew wide while House got out of the car and moved as quickly as possible toward the diner. "House," Wilson called as he got out, rounding the car and jogging to catch up to his friend. "What do you have planned?" he asked as House walked through the opened glass doors and stepped into the restaurant, visually locating the table where the women sat.

"What do I have _p__lanned_?' Nothing," House answered, never slowing his progress toward them.

He sat in the booth next to Cuddy before she even had time to move over. "House!" she said with surprise, "I didn't know you were coming."

"Hey, woman," he said, raising his eyebrow at Cuddy and turning to Ann just as she scooted over to allow Wilson into the booth.

"Where's Adam?" Ann asked Wilson.

"With Celia," House said loudly, immediately dominating the conversation. "Did you have a nice time?" House asked, leaning onto the table facing Ann.

"Yes, of course," Ann answered.

"Go dancing?" House questioned, using a play from his daughter's own handbook.

"Yea, why?"

"Have dinner?" He continued.

"Yes"

"Maybe have a few drinks?"

"A few," she answered, sounding frustrated by the rapid fire questioning.

"Are you cheating on Wilson?"

"What?" Ann gasped, beyond surprised at the question. "Of course not."

"Are you really sure?" House asked. "It's better to tell the truth than to be caught in a lie later."

"I'm not lying," Ann said sternly, meeting House's gaze with firm resolve.

House shrugged and looked at Wilson, "There's your answer. She's not cheating, and, in your own words, she's more than worthy of fighting for."

Wilson stared ahead at House, asking, "What happened to delicately?"

"You thought I was cheating?" Ann asked Wilson.

"I wasn't sure," Wilson replied. "I was concerned. You've been different lately."

"So have you," Ann countered. "You suspected I was cheating though. Why? Is it because _you_ are cheating?"

"I am not cheating," Wilson answered immediately. "I have never cheated on you. And if you aren't cheating, who's Scott?"

"Scott? You _know_ who Scott is."

"I don't"

"You do. My administrative assistant. The same one I've had for almost four years…does that sound familiar?"

"Your assistant is very gay."

"So…"

"Not that Scott. The other Scott. The guy who sends sweet little greeting cards with heart-felt messages of support?"

"Same Scott. He is the only Scott that I know."

"Then what happened in Houston?"

"Houston? The conference?" Ann asked, baffled.

"The card said 'Houston.' You tell me."

"Nothing happened. I presented, attended sessions, came home."

"Did Scott go along?"

"No. Why would he go? I've never taken him to a single conference. I've never taken any assistant to a conference."

"Why did the card say to 'say yes' in Houston?"

"What card?"

"The stack of cards that you saved…"

"Wait…the stack of cards in my office?" Ann asked, aghast.

"Why would you save cards given to you by your assistant if they didn't have some meaning?"

"He's my friend. I save all of my cards. The ones here at home go into that box in my closet. Scott always gives me cards at work, so I stash them in my desk. He's sweet…a really good friend."

"Oh," Wilson answered, eased by the answers he was hearing.

"Yea. 'Oh.' Let's get back to the part about you snooping in my office."

"It was House's idea, believe me, I didn't want to go."

"So you do whatever he wants?"

"I'm both brilliant and charming. Almost impossible to resist or deter," House broke into the conversation. "He had little choice. You two morons need to talk. And if you weren't both about half drunk, you'd never want to have this discussion in front of us. So, now that we've established that everything's fine on the infidelity front, you can hammer out the details privately so that Cuddy and I don't have to sit through this."

Wilson and Ann both looked mildly horrified that the words were exchanged in front of their friends, Concern, fear and muddled judgment clearly loosened their lips.

"Important lessons have been learned. Neither of you are cheating. Trust me. But, now you both know you don't want the other one to cheat or leave. Am I right?" House asked.

Wilson and Ann both nodded, like children being scolded.

"Good, so ignore my less than perfect conduct because you know what you want. Now go make it happen, stop allowing it _not_ happening to even be possible."

House and Wilson ordered coffees and food and the foursome talked about their children and changes in their lives. Ann was fully sober after a little time had passed and she looked at Wilson. "What did you mean when you said there was a card that said something about Houston?" Ann asked, her fingers winding through Wilson's as the two already looked subtly more comfortable around each other.

"The one card…said he wanted you to 'say yes' and mentioned your trip to Houston."

"No," Ann said, shaking her head. "Scott loves greeting cards, he gives me tons of them. Friendship, boss's day, thank you, thinking of you…all of that stuff…but there was never a 'say yes in Houston' card. That doesn't even make sense."

Wilson was obviously looking for words and then cocked his head to one side and slowly faced forward, scowling suspiciously at House. "What did you do?"

"OK, I admit it…I didn't get out all of the cards, I only showed you a few. I thought the boss's day cards might make it too easy to figure out who Scott was," House answered.

"What _else_ did you do?" Wilson probed.

House looked at Cuddy, blinking innocently, "You look amazing tonight."

"That has a remote chance of working on me," Cuddy said, "I'll admit it. But I don't think Wilson's gonna be distracted by your flattery of me."

"He was always so jealous," House joked.

"I'm not jealous, I'm angry. Did you…fake the card?" Wilson asked.

"Did I…'_fake_ the card'…? No," House said, speaking cautiously.

"Did you…alter the card?"

"The card was completely legit. I might have…added a few words."

"Which words?"

"The 'you are always there for me' and the 'Scott'…those were on the original card. I enhanced the rest."

"Enhanced? How did you know about Houston?"

"I did read her calendar first…you were there. You gave me way too much free time while you were thinking and moping."

"You are such an ass," Wilson smirked.

"Let's focus on outcome."

"What if I read that and thought she cheated and I left her? Never…gave her a chance to explain."

"It was too vague for you to react that way…and I wouldn't have let you."

"_That_'_s_ meddling."

"Again…let's focus on outcome."

"But it's still meddling."

House looked upward in thought, "Perhaps. But still…focus on outcome. You'll toast me at your elaborate twentieth wedding anniversary gala. "

* * *

When they got back to Wilson and Ann's, the home was in complete disarray. It was clear that there was a party for all seven children thrown by a doting grandmother. Celia was sleeping on the recliner, feet up, a wide grin plastered on her aged face even in sleep. The children were all around the living room on blankets and sleeping bags with makeshift tents made of bed sheets and furniture. The parents woke Celia, offering her a spot in Ava's room to sleep in a bed. The old woman firmly declined, happily knee-deep in a sea of some of the children she loved most in the world. House and Wilson stood over her, trying to convince her that she'd be more comfortable in a bed. She sat up, looked back and forth between the two of them, explaining, "I have had entire apartments that were smaller and less comfortable than this recliner. I'll be fine here. You boys go sleep in your beds and let me be here where I wanna be."

They were still standing there, preparing to argue, when Celia nestled comfortably back in the recliner and closed her eyes. "Now go," she said gently.

Cuddy hugged Ann before she went to bed. "Do you feel any better?" Cuddy asked.

"A bit. I mean…we got _this_ messed up somehow. We have a lot to figure out. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled he isn't cheating…relieved that…he seems to still want to work things out. Now…we have to actually follow through…really work on stuff. But I really want to try."

"I'm glad," Cuddy said, squeezing Ann's arm comfortingly.

"After all of these years, House…always pushes boundaries. Breaks rules. That must be exhausting."

"Sometimes the man has made decisions that have made me furious. I have been dangerously close to throttling him over the years," Cuddy laughed. "But even when his decisions and boundary pushing and rule breaking are the most infuriating…the one thing that tends to come to light down the line…is that he's doing it because he thinks he's doing what's best. He didn't sneak into your office just to violate your privacy…he didn't bluntly lay everything on the line to hurt either of you…he didn't pry just to satisfy his curiosity. No matter what it looks like, he wanted to help his friend."

"Strangely…I sort of believe that."

"Good"

"But he's still infuriating."

"Sometimes that's when he's most brilliant," Cuddy said, smiling at her friend before walking down the hall to the guest room to wait for House.


	24. History Lessons

_Thanks so much to everyone who's following, favoriting, and reading, and to all of the reviewers since my last post: IHeartHouseCuddy, OldSFfan, Hspirito, KiwiClare, TheHouseWitch, JLCH, housebound, MsStevieCooper, Bounce, BJAllen815, ammeboss, jaybe61, jkarr, ClareBear14, Suzieqlondon, CaptainK8, Little Greg, skieathuddyrepeat, Abby, Bakerstreet Blues, Alex, HuddyGirl, dmarchl21, LoveMyHouse, partypantscuddy, LapizSilkwood and Mon Fogel._

___*The end of this chapter includes mild adult content._

_We'll begin with a flashback._

* * *

_**-Ava's Sixth Birthday-(A little over 2 years earlier)-**_

_Ava's sixth birthday was a fantastic day with a special visitor, Nadia Williams. Nadia was the social worker who had kept Ava while House and Cuddy struggled to get custody, and was the person responsible for the child's case. Although the social worker's responsibility for the girl ended years earlier, the case touched Nadia deeply, and she kept contact with the family even after they moved. Nadia couldn't get over how well Ava was doing. The girl was well adjusted, happy with her family, a success at school and a wonderful big sister. When she first saw Nadia, Ava was cautiously excited to talk to her._

_With all of Ava's progress and growth, it was sometimes easy to forget the complex and painful history of her life. By the end of the night, her coping mechanisms were almost entirely exhausted. After the celebration calmed, Ava and Jack were playing in her room just before bed, and Nadia went in to say goodbye. Nadia hugged the girl, picking her up and moving toward the door to show her something in the hallway, but Ava suddenly lost it. The girl was in the throes of a sudden, fearful and angry rage. She was screaming at the top of her lungs until Nadia put her down. She began yelling and throwing toys across the room, as Jack was crying on the floor nearby. Nadia held a hand up, walking over to Jack to make sure he was alright and she said, "Now, Ava, just relax, and let me-"_

_The second Nadia touched Jack, Ava charged at the woman. House and Cuddy both rushed from the kitchen where they were cleaning up to the bedroom when they heard the noise. House picked up Ava, pulling her away from Nadia. Nadia tried to grab Jack to take him out of the room, an attempt to help, and Ava began screaming all the more angrily. Cuddy saw immediately what was increasing Ava's aggravation and took Jack from the retreating woman. By that point, House was sitting on the bed, desperately rubbing his thigh. Ava had kicked him several times during her tantrum while he tried to move her away from Nadia._

_When the girl's tiny, sneakered foot hit his leg, he struggled to avoid dropping her, putting her down as soon as she was in a spot where she couldn't hurt herself or others, but she continued trying to charge at Nadia until Cuddy had Jack tightly in her arms and closed the bedroom door. When it was just the four of them in the room, Cuddy walked over to Ava, still holding Jack. House expected that Cuddy would have hidden Jack from the situation, but the trust she had in the girl mirrored the trust she had in her husband, and Cuddy knew neither would hurt those closest to them if they could avoid it._

_Ava's tantrum was gone, but the rage, the anger and the fear were still there. While House tried to ease the pain that was so intense that he felt nausea threatening, Cuddy sat on the floor. Ava ranted while Cuddy listened. Her eyes were filled with understanding but not pity, and she didn't shy away from any of the frustration or anger that was there. Cuddy noted it, accepted it, and allowed it without judgment. She treated Ava exactly as she would have treated House when he was beyond angry. She gently rubbed Jack's back, trying to make him feel safe even as everything was going on around them, and she waited. Ava was standing over her mom, chest heaving with frustration and she said, "She tried to take me, and when she couldn't take me, she tried to take Jack."_

_"She can't take you," Cuddy answered calmly, "or Jack."_

_"Do they want me back? Is she gonna take me back to my old family?"_

_"We would never give you up. We didn't before, and we won't now, or ever. You are stuck with us…whether you are happy with us, or mad at us, when you want us around and don't want us around…you are stuck with us."_

_"Do they want Jack? Why'd she grab Jack?" Ava yelled at Cuddy._

_"Because she didn't understand why you were upset. She was trying to bring him to us so that he didn't have to see you get angry."_

_"Do you think you have to hide him from me too?" Ava asked, still spitting angrily, overreacting to the situation as a way to ameliorate the tension and concern that had been building within her all day._

_"Of course not," Cuddy replied calmly. "I brought him right over to you, didn't I?"_

_Cuddy could see the girl processing, looking down at her mother and brother sitting on the floor, each calmly waiting for the anger to pass. Jack looked up from Cuddy's shoulder, his eyes red from crying. Ava's face was crinkled with rage, her fists clenched, her body on the offensive, until she saw Jack's face. Cuddy could see Ava's tension releasing into the floor. The girl melted downward onto her knees. "Jack, I'm sorry," the girl said immediately, guilt and shame filling her in the spaces left behind by the anger._

_Jack immediately went to Ava, his little arms stretching to reach around her neck. She hugged him and said softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you."_

_"S'OK," the toddler answered. "I'm really tough. You a'right?"_

_"Yea," Ava said, trying to put on her happiest face when she smiled at him._

_While still hugging Jack, she leaned toward Cuddy, accepting a hug from her mom, and understanding, even at that age, the level of complete acceptance her family had for her._

_"I don't want to go back there," Ava stated.  
_

_"You don't have to," Cuddy reassured._

_"And they can't have Jack."_

_"No one can have either of you," Cuddy said, conveying all of the certainty she felt. "I promise. Your father and I would never let that happen. Ever. We will never give you up. You'll be a teenager, screaming at us to leave you alone in your room. You'll be in college, begging us to let you grow up. You'll be completely grown, have your own home, and you'll have to lock the doors to keep us away."_

_Ava almost chuckled and nodded._

_"And the same goes for Jack," Cuddy assured._

_Ava's breathing calmed, and she started to return to normal when she saw her father and the way he was rubbing his leg. "Oh my god," the girl said, entirely horrified by what she realized. "I hurt you?"_

_House shook his head, "No, I'm fine," he said attempting a smile._

_"You…are lying."_

_He smiled sadly, looking down. "I am fine. I promise."_

_"But you did lie. I did hurt you. I was so mad…I was so angry."_

_"I know," he answered with complete and total understanding._

_"I didn't want to hurt you."_

_"I am completely certain you didn't want to hurt me."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm sorry too. I had to pick you up and move you away from Nadia. You can yell and scream all you want, but…I couldn't let you hurt yourself…or anyone else."_

_"It's OK."_

_"It bothered you. I know it bothered you. It would have bothered me," he answered calmly.  
_

_"I know," Ava answered, reaching out to put her hand on his knee. "But I hurt you when you were trying to help me."_

_Ava's lip was quivering and she fought the tears with all of her strength but they came. "It's fine, Ava," he said soothingly, but the guilt overwhelmed the child._

_"This is why I lied, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings," he said, his own eyes watering slightly at her anguish._

_"I didn't even realize what I was doing, it just happened."_

_"Believe me, kid, I get it, OK? Crap happens. I practically invented crap happening. We just look out for each other. It's our job. We're your parents. Your mom tries to stop me from doing stupid things…and we try to stop you from doing dangerous things. OK?"_

_Ava still looked sad, and House pulled her over to his other leg before he scooted on the floor next to Cuddy and Jack. "You know how Medford had to help us to get you…because I was in jail because of things I did when I took a lot of drugs?"_

_Ava nodded._

_"I was so angry…and so hurt…" he began._

_Both children knew that he had a criminal record, they knew he was in jail, they knew much of their parents' story, but that day, he told them everything about the day that he drove into their mother's home. He told them about pain, and heartache, about blind rage and fury, and about actions that you think you will suffer for, for the rest of your life. The children listened calmly to his story, and as always, judged him only as the man he was to them, and not on his actions of the past._

_When he was finished explaining, he said calmly, "There are times when I may not understand the things you do, or maybe I'll be really upset with you…but I'll always try to understand. I want to understand. Your mom and I managed to still love each other after all of that, so remember, there is nothing that you are capable of doing that will make us stop loving you. Nothing you could do that would make us regret having either of you in our lives. Don't feel guilty. When things go wrong, we'll address what happens and then…we'll always figure out what to do next."_

* * *

Cuddy was standing in the doorway between the bathroom and guest room when House entered their room. Wilson and Ann finally headed to bed, and Celia was happily sleeping in the living room near all of the children. Cuddy yawned around the toothbrush, turning back toward the sink, and House sighed at the very sight of her. He slid behind her in the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her torso, pulling her against him and savoring the feeling of touching her again. One armed around her, hand pressed against her flat stomach, he brushed his own teeth and listened as she sighed back against him. "I'm so glad that it's not us falling apart," she whispered.

He didn't speak, but nodded, his eyes conveying a degree of agreement that he wasn't sure he was prepared to speak to. They were tired. The day was long, and there were some wonderful moments. They each had time to spend with their respective friends, each offered good counsel, and at the end of the evening, House had diagnosed the problem between their friends, forced them to face concerns, and allowed them to begin a dialogue that could possibly lead to a better relationship.

In spite of so many positive things that evening, both House and Cuddy dealt with lingering memories behind their realities. The pain of those memories was always sharp and clear for each of them, and the joy of their present didn't erase the earlier hurt, it only made their later situation more appreciated.

When he was finished, she met his eyes in the mirror, her look tired but loving. He grabbed her hand and led her into their room, where he gently leaned her toward the wall. "Missed you," he whispered while he slipped his hands under her shirt to help her take it off.

His confession of missing was entrenched more in his historical loneliness than the few hours they spent apart, but the missing, the longing, was still very much there.

"Missed you too," she confessed, her feelings spurred on by how tenuous relationships could be based on what she saw between Wilson and Ann. "And I'm sorry, but I'm so tired," she said as she took his hands, stopping them from moving temptingly around her body.

She held his large hands in hers and brought them to her cheek, sweetly pressing into them with overt affection. "Me too," he said, reassuringly, his expression letting her know that his attention wasn't for the purpose of sexual satisfaction, but rather for emotional gratification.

Releasing his hands, she smiled and yawned again while he reached around behind her and unhooked her bra, his hands glancing over her skin in appreciation before leading her to the bed. He sat down on the bed with her, bringing her feet into his lap and removing her shoes before gently massaging her calves. While his hands moved up her thighs to the button of her jeans, she relaxed and allowed him to take care of her.

There was nothing flirtatious about the way they were interacting. He was taking care of her needs, making her comfortable. During their previous relationship she would have felt completely uncomfortable with that type of contact, sternly insisting on taking care of herself, and he'd quickly admit, at that time, he wouldn't have even made the attempt. They were both more inherently more comfortable with expressing affection through sex than through compassionate, platonic touch. She grew to enjoy moments like those, although they were hardly frequent, enjoying them as the expressions of love that they were.

"It's sort of…disconcerting…just how messed up a relationship can get, isn't it? One that seems so good, so solid…" she said, her concerned expression conveying how much the situation they were witnessing affected her.

"No reason to be disconcerted," he said quietly. "We already learned the stuff most people are just figuring out."

The soft backs of his fingers slipped under the waist of her jeans between the clothing and her skin while his thumbs and forefingers released the button and zipper. He helped her to wiggle out of her jeans and softly squeezed her side in his palm before he stood up and went to his luggage. He took out his favorite sleeping tee shirt and brought it back to her, slipping it over her head. It was soft, the fabric was so worn that in some places, it was possible to see the fleshy tones of skin between the fibers.

His hands moved over her sides and abdomen even after he put the shirt on her. She knew his touch, the feeling of his hands, so well that she knew exactly how he felt long after his hands were gone from her skin. She knew of the rough, calloused fingertips, the softer sensation of the center part of his palms, the way his skin always seemed to belong against hers. He stripped to his boxers while she drew her legs up and wormed under the covers, opening the sheet and comforter like a door for him to join her.

He sunk into the bed, allowing his body to release the tension of the day for the earned satisfaction of bed and the comforts of her arms. There was nothing unsatisfying about that moment. She lifted the shirt so that she could feel her torso against his, the sensation of skin on skin the most comfortable way to fall asleep. She only wore the shirt because they were in a foreign place, and in case the children called for them in the early hours.

As tired and ready for sleep as he thought he was, the memories from earlier in the day left him feeling the residual sadness. He wasn't hopeless or devastated, but he wanted so much to remind himself of all that was right about his reality. His hand repeatedly traveled along her arm from her wrist and forearm to her elbow and shoulder, some passes of his hand soft, scarcely contacting the skin, and some deeper touches reached into muscles.

House pondered his earlier life, it was never completely gone from his mind, and he hoped it never would be, because it always gave him a point of comparison with which to gauge how much his life had changed. His leg, his own pain, was still constant in his life, much like Cuddy's heartbreak. Neither of them fully moved beyond those things, they were as engrained and internalized and central to the people they had become as House's genius or Cuddy's organizational prowess. What _had_ changed was the circumstances that surrounded them.

House's cane and Cuddy's meditation, or any of their dozens of coping mechanisms, had always helped them to survive, to get from point A to point B, but they did little to make the journey more pleasant. They found comfort in each other in many ways. Obviously they found comfort through sex and attraction, since they were each married to a person whom they considered the embodiment of desirability. They found physical compatibility years earlier, but their current relationship was built on their physical attraction as well as honesty and a fiercely loyal partnership. Beyond each other, they had their children. When there were two small people filled with questions, curiosity and a willingness to play, that certainly was a pleasant form of pain management.

"I was thinking earlier," Cuddy said, more alert than he had expected, "About when I came to Kate's to find you."

He hummed, pulling her a little closer, "Consumed with a sense of regret?" he teased.

"Not for a second. I was just thinking about how nervous I was to see you. I can't believe I actually walked through that door."

"Neither can I."

"You wouldn't have come to find me, would you?"

He sighed, "Probably not. Maybe…one day when I was ridiculously old or terminally ill…or if I found out you were terminally ill."

"That's what I was afraid of. Finding each other when it's too late or nearly too late would be terrible."

"It wasn't because I didn't want to see you. I didn't want to hurt you. Or me. I couldn't really picture things being anything other than exactly the way they always were."

"The second we stopped fighting against each other, and started fighting for each other…it changed everything. You know, back at home on the island, people fear crossing one of us because of the other, they see our whole family as an oddly indivisible team. People at the hospital used to run to me…or you…to use the one against the other. People used to assume we were each anti- the other. "

House chuckled, "Bastards."

"Now we're more collaborative."

"I like collaborative," he said, dragging the shirt up over her breasts.

She raised an eyebrow questioningly and he said, "Please…continue talking."

He pulled her on her side, so they were facing, and he scooted down the bed, his hand still moving along her body while his tongue teased her nipple.

She exhaled slowly, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling his head closer to her. "You were so amazing tonight…with that card…" she sighed, rubbing along the back of his head with her fingers and basking in the attention he was paying her body. "I've always loved watching you work. Seeing you when everything comes together…fuck that feels good…umm…seeing you when you make things work. When you show everyone that you know exactly how to read them."

He acknowledged that she spoke, but his response was incoherent while he was lost in her breasts, smooth skin, and the way her body shifted as she breathed, and although he barely knew the words that she was speaking, he was completely rapt by the sound of her voice. He folded both arms around her tiny waist, always enjoying the comparative tininess of her body next to his. She wiggled closer, lifting one knee over his hip and catching his mischievous gaze. "It's OK, you said you were tired," he said, letting go of one nipple only long enough to speak the phrase and find the other nipple to tease her until she was squirming once more.

"I'm not tired _now_," she said as she tried to hide a yawn.

He slipped up toward her face touching his nose to hers and whispering, "You yawn like you're tired."

"Fine…I _am _tired, but I'm also turned on. So I'm probably not going to be able to sleep until we resolve that."

"Resolve that?"

"Yes"

"Guided meditation?"

"No," she scoffed.

"Deep breathing?"

"No way"

"Cold shower?"

She scowled, "That doesn't sound like nearly as much fun as what I was thinking."

He groaned softly when her hands wrapped around his already growing erection. "So touching me wasn't doing anything for you?" she teased.

"Touching you, looking at you, thinking about you…any of those things will work."

His hand roamed down her back, over the curve of her ass, pulling her panties down as he moved. After removing them, his hand went from her thigh to her knee, pulling her closer and wrapping her leg farther around him. His other hand slid along her thighs to her warm center, his hand pressing broadly against her without probing closer at all. The pressure was a tease, an additional suggestion of pleasant feelings yet to come. She rocked against his hand, unashamed to chase the tantalizing feelings that he'd bring to her.

He protested weakly when her hands moved from his arousal to his face, until she started kissing him. It was a slow, sexy, promising kiss, like a forbidden one shared between lovers that shouldn't be, but were. They still loved kissing, feeling bodies encouraging, mouths learning, hands teasing. When his mouth moved to her neck, she rasped, "It's so cool that you still like kissing me."

He looked at her, kissing her chin, her cheek, the quickly her lips and corrected, "I love kissing you. Making out with you is fun."

She smiled, her hands resuming the combination of groping for sexual pleasure and massage as a display of affection. He kissed her lips once more. "People who forget that making out is fun are stupid. If we forget that making out is fun, soon we'll forget that fondling is fun, then blow jobs, then probably orgasms."

She chuckled and gasped as he languidly pushed one finger inside of her. "Then we'll have to try not to forget that," she agreed.

His face returned to her neck and collarbone. One hand pumping steadily inside of her, the fingers of the other hand moving with a musician's dexterity along her her wet slit, just skimming over her tiny bundle of nerves. He watched her face while she drowned in his attention. Her arms and one leg were around him, refusing to allow him to pull away, and her face, her quiet moans and whimpers, told him everything he needed to know about her responses to him. She shuddered against him, her whole body taken over when she came, as her fingers dug into his back and sides possessively.

His fingers remained inside of her, feeling the forceful clenching and release of muscles fade to thankful pulses against his digits, and the furious grip of her arms turn to an almost lame resting of limbs around his body. She seemed to be drifting to sleep, looking beautiful and peaceful next to him, and although he was still fantastically aroused, he didn't want to wake her. He tried to pull himself away and realized she was still awake and refusing to let him go so soon. "You'd rather take care of yourself?" she asked with subtle smile.

"No. You said you were tired, and I sort of…easily manipulated your body into letting me do fun things to you. I figured I should let you sleep."

She pulled him closer, up over her leg, each of them still partially on their sides, and she helped his body find its way inside her. He seemed to shiver with pleasure once they were joined. In that position, their union wasn't desperate or frantic, but it was focused and intentional, their bodies meeting and retreating with hands still free to explore each other. "You think I'd pass up an opportunity to do this with you?" she asked.

He smiled back, taking her face back in his hands as he helped continue their rhythm. "You are still the best feeling," he mumbled back.

At that point it was a struggle to maintain the slow pace, but they were exchanging words that aroused his mind, sharing sentiments that aroused his heart, and her body provoked the greatest physical sensations. The easy, steady pace was forgotten when she started to climax again, and he wanted to finish with her. Tiredness forgotten, they momentarily became more frenetic, involuntarily calling each other's names when they shared orgasms, each consumed by the other.

As they lay together, bodies slowly surrendering to sleep, she said, "It was worth it, wasn't it?"

"The sex?"

"No…the…getting all of the horrible things out of the way earlier. We've experienced the distrust and the betrayal, suspicion, anger, the really horrible fights. We got that all out of the way. Separated, learned from it, learned about each other. We knew before we were really together what it takes other couples entire relationships to figure out."

"That was an interesting take on the fucked up history of us."

"Isn't it?" she giggled. "But it's still true."

"Completely"


	25. The Ladies

_A/N-Thanks to all who continue to read, and to all of those who shared their thoughts with me since the last update: KiwiClare, housebound, ammeboss, JLCH, Bakerstreet Blues, LoveMyHouse, Suzieqlondon, Truth, IHeartHouseCuddy, BJAllen815, jkarr, dmarchl21, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, Olivia, ClareBear14, Boo's House, LapizSilkwood, Josam, and Mon Fogel._

* * *

"Don't blame me, I'm just the messenger. I'm supposed to tell you that, 'this sort of behavior is absurd, you aren't twenty anymore' and 'get up because the day's just wasting away,'" a small, soft voice whispered.

Cuddy's eyes fluttered open and she saw Ava's face so near that it was practically touching hers. There was a reason why they slept with clothes on since they had children, or on more amorous nights, got up in the early hours before the children woke to recompose themselves. Cuddy smiled at her daughter, who was standing next to the bed leaning over her. "Good morning, Baby," Cuddy said as she stretched and enjoyed the comfort of the bed and the softness of the sheets for a few more moments. As alertness settled over her, and Ava's words were deciphered in her head, Cuddy's eyes shot open wide, "Dear god, that message, is that from Grandma…is Grandma here?"

Ava nodded her head. "She said she wants to know why you still think it's OK to run around and party like you're in college, because you are way too old for that."

"I saw her party in college. Trust me, she's really perfected the art since then," House mumbled from the other side of the bed.

Jack climbed up between them, "She said we should come wake you up."

"What time is it?" House asked.

"Eight-fifteen," Ava said.

"She was there before we woke up," Jack added. "I opened my eyes, and looked out of my tent next to the sofa, and she and Grandmama Celia were playing cards."

Cuddy groaned, unprepared for her mother so early in the morning after their eventful evening with the Wilson's. "Is Grandma in a good mood?" Cuddy asked Ava, hopefully.

Ava shrugged. "I guess. She's happy to see us."

"Good," Cuddy said as she stretched.

"What's a _foiler_?" Jack asked. "She said it like one of those _Grandma_ words."

"For some reason I feel relatively certain she was referring to me. What did that old…_lady_…say?" House asked.

"She said that Mom used to be a really successful professional until she married that _foiler_. Is it a bad word?" Ava asked.

"Essentially she's calling me a lazy ass," House answered nonchalantly. "I won't argue it."

Cuddy sat up, begrudgingly pulling her legs out of the bed and looking at her daughter. "You want to let her know we'll be down soon?"

"Sure," Ava nodded.

* * *

When House and Cuddy made it downstairs, Celia and Arlene were sitting in a corner of the living room, chatting and playing cards. During Arlene's visits to Barbados, she and Celia became close friends. They both exhibited tough-love aspects in their parenting and grand-parenting, and were both sharp-witted and chatty. When House was dismayed by the partnership initially, Cuddy said calmly, "Could be interesting. Or disastrous. They are both strong, opinionated women who love us dearly, and the first time they _really_ disagree on something, there's bound to be some _serious_ casualties. Or nuclear war."

The older women did get along wonderfully on most occasions, and seemed to share a joy in tormenting their children. "What are you two yentas chatting about?" House asked suspiciously, while Cuddy and Arlene shared a slightly rigid obligatory hug.

"So…let me see if I have this right. You would consider him a _nudnik_?" Celia asked Arlene.

Arlene chuckled and the two shared a dainty, feminine high-five.

"You chicks are so hip these days. And come on, seriously? You're teaching her Yiddish?" House asked Arlene with dismay.

"How are you, Gregory, I have missed you beyond what words can say," Arlene stated.

"You've come here to tell me that you're finally dying, haven't you?" House jabbed.

Arlene sneered, "Dream on. I'll outlive you, and probably your children."

"Pact with demons unnamed?" House asked.

"Clean living and a clear conscience," Arlene retorted.

"It's good to see you, Mom," Cuddy said, butting into the banter between her mother and husband.

"And you, Dear," Arlene answered. "You look...thin. Too thin."

"You look well," Cuddy answered, nodding politely.

"She's just saying that to ward off your hypochondria," House explained.

"I'm going to get some coffee," Cuddy interjected while she was walking out of the room, "to allow you two to perform this phony ritual where you try to demonstrate to everyone how much you dislike each other."

"I'm a fantastic mother, grandmother and mother-in-law," Arlene stated, asking House directly, "Who would believe that you could dislike me?"

"Everyone who knows you?" House offered. "Anyway, we weren't aware that you were coming here, ambushing us at Wilson's, or we would have been up much earlier slaughtering lunch, oiling my pecs, and eagerly anticipating your arrival," House said.

"I just didn't feel like waiting a few more days until you finally decided to visit, which would have given you an opportunity to try to wriggle out of seeing me. I needed to see my family," Arlene countered.

House smirked and walked toward the kitchen to join Cuddy, noticing that the chaos created in the living room by the children had all been cleaned up, he assumed under the watchful eye of the grandmothers. As he was leaving, he heard Celia say, "Don't be crazy, I'd love to have you. My place gets lonely, and I think I'm far too old for love again, so I don't expect anyone to be moving in under romantic circumstances. I have a second bedroom with a bathroom, so you'd have your privacy, and I'd have mine. The company'd be nice."

"You are sure it's not an inconvenience? I don't like to be a bother," Arlene answered.

"Oh please, you _live_ to be a bother," House scoffed, swiftly limping back toward them. "You've invented and perfected the _science_ of bothering. So, you're planning your next visit? When are you coming to see us again…staying with Celia this time?"

House looked satisfied, thrilled at the prospect that during Arlene's next visit, she might stay with Celia, a slightly greater distance away from their guest home.

"I have wonderful news, Greg," Arlene said, looking at him with her own smug grin of satisfaction, "I may be moving to Barbados."

"What? Why?" House asked, the grin slipping from his face.

"I thought it might be nice to get to see my daughter and her family more regularly."

"You have two daughters. What about Julia, you know I hate to step on her toes," House said dramatically.

"I'm sure you do, Julia's feelings are always a concern of yours." Arlene continued, "Julia's children are getting older, they need me less. Ava and Jack are still young, and I'm sure you two need the babysitting, since you're such…amazing physicians…your careers keep you busy. Of course, I'm lucky enough to have brilliant doctors in the family, so I'm not worried about losing touch with my doctors here at home. I can go directly to you or Lisa when something's wrong. Can't get much better medical care than that. As long as Celia doesn't mind, I won't be too much of an problem for you."

"Lord, I have plenty of room," Celia said. "It would be nice to have someone to share dinners and talk with."

"You are…just screwing with me right?" he asked.

"There are so many ways to screw with you…I'd like to think that, if that were my intention, I could have done much better than that. I'm sure you'll be happy for the help with the kids."

"See," House replied, "It's a nice gesture, but completely unnecessary. We have everything under control. Kate helps with the kids, and Celia's there…and believe it or not, we do actually like hanging out with our children."

"And how _is_ your little lesbian friend?" Arlene asked. "Still pining after Lisa? I mean, don't you think it's a little odd that she followed you overseas, to start a new life. You don't _really _think that she followed _you_, do you? I think we all know she was following my daughter."

"Her _girlfriend_ may dispute that claim. Actually," House said, drawing closer, "It isn't Cuddy she wants…well…she does want _Cuddy_…just not my Cuddy. She's into really old broads. She's had her eye on you for years. I think it's the constant derision and nagging. She's a masochist."

"I'm certain."

"I don't know, I think Kate's a pretty girl, in her way," Celia said, "If you are going to play on the other bus, I think you could do a lot worse."

Arlene nodded, "I like that little bar she owns down there, she works hard, she's probably fun to travel with, handy around the home."

"You know, I've always wondered what it would be like-" Celia began.

"Stop!" House yelled, "Seriously, stop this entire conversation. Just don't…don't do it. What do you want in exchange for never, ever bringing up anything like _that_ again?"

"You started it," Arlene goaded. "I've known you for how long, did you really think you could send me running away, blushing at your indecency?"

"What do you and your dirty mind think I was talking about?" Celia asked House.

"I don't know, but I had this creepy feeling that the two of you were hell bent on ruining lesbianism for me. I couldn't let that happen."

Celia started laughing at the sincere and pained look on his face, and turned to Arlene. "I really do love that boy," Celia said, nodding toward House, "I'm telling you, I wish he would have been one of mine from the start. It's like he just got…dropped off at the wrong doorstep."

House smiled with a hint of shyness, his bravado and playful behavior from moments earlier evaporating at the compliment. He nodded and slipped quietly from the room.

* * *

_**-3 weeks after Celia's boyfriend's death-**_

_House paced through the waiting room, in the early hours before the Center opened. He tried to remain focused on what was said to him right before they took Cuddy away, "It's just a precaution. I'm relatively certain that there's nothing to worry about."_

_He took comfort in the fact that at least there was quiet while he waited. There was just time filled with silence and pacing. After only a few minutes, the silence became far too silent. He heard the Center doors open, and saw the familiar, poised, confident gait of Celia. She wasn't supposed to be in for at least two more hours, but for some reason, she was there._

_At first, he felt violated, angry, knowing that she must have been snooping into their personal files again, but when she came in, she sat in the last chair at the end of the line of chairs along the wall in the waiting room. Celia, the very personification of chatter, sat there quietly. She was working on her sewing, not talking, not making any extraneous sounds or disruptive motions. After just a few moments, House felt oddly comforted by her stoic and powerful presence._

_He began to pace again, uncertain of what to do with himself, pondering so many of his old instincts, while concentrating on trying to avoid making the types of mistakes that lead to regrets and pain. After pacing for several minutes, he sat down two chairs away from Celia. "I can't handle this…I get…lulled into believing that I'm not the same fucked up asshole I was for most of my life, and then something happens and immediately I'm right back there."_

_Celia looked up from her sewing over her reading glasses, just enough to glance her eyes over him. "What exactly are you doing that makes you an asshole?"_

_"I'm worried about what's going to happen if something's wrong with her."_

_"Worrying is asshole-ish behavior?"_

_"I want to be here for her. I don't want to freak and decide that I'm going to run…to hide."_

_"But you're still here."_

_"I don't want to discover a moment of weakness. I don't want to start thinking about how it might be easier to hide," he said, clearly disappointed in his own thoughts._

_"No blame on you for thinking. All those years ago, when my husband was sick, when it got really bad…at the end when I could see in his eyes that he wished he was dead, part of me thought that I wasn't sure if I could take looking at him anymore. That's how bad it hurt me to see how much pain he was in. As much as being there was difficult for me, nothing could keep me away from him. But I'll admit it, the thought was there. I hated feeling selfish for considering my own feelings when he was in so much pain. But, no matter what, a thought doesn't translate to an action unless you make the decision to follow through."_

_"I've run before. Avoided. I have allowed thoughts like those to become actions like that."_

_"Well, I wore shiny, gold, platform shoes at one point, I refuse to let that define me."_

_House breathed a chuckle, but didn't answer._

_Celia continued sewing, "Don't ever…ever…define yourself by the moments you are least proud of."_

_He nodded and sat back in the chair._

_They were silent again for quite a while, Celia remaining as a strong presence next to him, providing just enough support. "I don't want anything to happen to her," he said calmly._

_"I know, son," she answered calmly, wisely choosing not to offer promises of things she didn't know, or unfounded claims that she knew everything would be fine._

_"On top of that…I can't help but wonder how I'd make it if something did happen. Then I think…how pathetic is that."_

_Celia just continued to sew and smile. They returned to silence. When the assistant came out to find him, she said, calmly, "It's a cyst. We'll send a sample to the lab, but you have nothing to worry about."_

_He nodded up at her, a smile finding its way to his lips. He sunk down into the chair, breathing a sigh of relief. Celia stood, gathering her sewing, but placing it on the chair where she had been seated. She faced him, standing directly in front of him. "When the second man that I have ever loved died…I thought I felt so alone. So much lonelier than I had ever felt before. When I came home that night, I wasn't ready to face an empty home…and there you were…on my porch, leaning that chin on your hands, propped on top of that cane. You didn't say the stupid crap that people say. You didn't tell me it was good he didn't suffer, or he lived a good life, or I was lucky I got to spend any time with him at all…lucky to have found love again at my age. You didn't say anything. You sat there in my home all night. You didn't judge or call me out when I cried a few tears that I wanted to hide. You helped me make those damn funeral arrangements…bust into the place to get the clothes I wanted him to be buried in…all that stuff I just couldn't do. You are my son, no matter what the papers say. And like it or not, I love you. I love you as much as my kids I raised from infants. While you see the part of you that was scared of what could happen…I see the man who stayed. While you see a guy with a history of addiction…your wife sees the man who remains clean. While you see a man with a history violence, your children see the man who protects them. Shake it up, son, it's time to see the good things through other people's eyes."_

_He looked up from his spot seated in front of her, his expression almost completely neutral while he thought. Celia held his cheeks and looked into his eyes, "Now go see your woman, things'll be fine, and I have stuff to do."_

_She kissed his forehead, looking at him with the compassionate gaze of a mother. "I'll be in to work in a few hours like none of this ever happened."_

* * *

When House went onto the back deck, he found the expansive yard dotted with all of the kids and Wilson. Celia's grandchildren, Adam, and his kids played together like cousins who had always known each other. Wilson seemed lighter and happier since he figured out that he and Ann still had the possibility of a good relationship. Everyone in the yard was playing hide and seek. Cuddy was sipping her coffee, helping the smallest of Celia's grandchildren count to fifty before finding the others. Their family was strange, people of various backgrounds, more of them were not related by blood than were, but they were definitely a family.

Wilson's phone rang, he answered it, and jogged to the deck to hand his phone to House.

"Gonna come in and see me?" Chase asked over the phone.

"Maybe," House answered jokingly.

"Oh, quit playing _hard to get_ and come in and play _hard to diagnose_. I have a case, I want your help since you're here."

"Since you asked all nice and sweet…no," House answered.

"You know you want to. Come on…it'll be fun. Like the old days…"

House smirked, "Me and my team will be there later this afternoon."


	26. Whiskey

_A/N-thanks to everyone who reviewed since the last posting: Boo's House, Josam, JLCH, LapizSilkwood, KiwiClare, OldSFfan, IHeartHouseCuddy, dmarchl21, jkarr, itzaboo, ammeboss, TheHouseWitch, Abby, Hsiprito, HuddyGirl, Alex, CaptainK8, Suzieqlondon, LoveMyHouse, devonfc, Jane Q. Doe, and Mon Fogel._

* * *

_**-2005-after Cuddy's grandmother's funeral-**_

_It was late, just after one in the morning. Cuddy had perfectly played the dutiful daughter to her grieving mother. Her grandmother had died. The death was not unexpected. Arlene was a perfectly poised wreck, and Cuddy did all of the things she was supposed to do, all while listening to Arlene's almost constant criticism. "It's too bad my beloved mother, may she rest in peace, didn't live to see you have children, she worried about you constantly," Arlene said on more than one occasion in the previous thirty-six hours. _

_Just as Cuddy was on her way out the door, Arlene said critically, "You know, this should remind you of how fragile life is…of how it will end. I hope I don't die before you get settled…at this rate, I hope _you_ don't die before you get settled."_

_Cuddy drove home, but just when she turned her keys off in the ignition, she realized her mind was far too busy for rest. She turned the car on and began the drive back to the hospital. At work, things always made more sense. At work, she was unquestionably a success._

_She went into her office, sighing happily once she was back in the safety of her professional life. Her butt didn't even make contact with the seat of her chair when her door flung open. "It's almost two in the morning!" she declared._

"_I was always impressed by your time-telling skills," House answered._

"_Why are you here at this hour?"_

"_I was here at a much earlier hour, but you weren't. It's significantly harder to irritate you when you aren't here."_

"_I have complete confidence in your ability to irritate me no matter where I am," she retorted with an emotionally exhausted smirk._

"_Don't forget to include that in my next performance review."_

_Picking up a pen as she pulled her chair forward, she answered, "Let's get this over with. What procedure do you want to do, who do you want to do it to, and why do you want to do it?"_

"_Nothing, to no one, and for no reason."_

"_Then why are you here?"_

"_Wilson said your grandmother died," he said softly._

_Cuddy almost gasped at the words as they emerged from his mouth. "Yes, come to air your grievances against my grandmother?"_

"_Never met her," he answered simply.  
_

"_I know, but that shouldn't stop you from voicing your discontent with her."_

_He breathed a chuckle, "True." He thought for a moment, and took a fifth of whiskey from his jacket. He placed the bottle on her desk and pushed it forward. _

"_Whiskey? You think that I drink whiskey?"_

"_It's the only way to go. The only really appropriate drink for something as harsh and final as death."_

_She was prepared to spew a well-rehearsed speech about the inappropriateness of drinking at work, with an employee, particularly when emotionally drained, but she picked up the bottle and almost felt the sound of the lid popping off of the top. In the next moment, she found herself taking an unanticipated drink. "Thanks," she said after she put the bottle back down with a soft thud. "What…made you decide to come in? Are you…checking Wilson's story?"_

"_Some grandmothers are cool. I had one once. Well…two, technically."_

"_Some grandmothers _are_ cool," Cuddy agreed._

_House stood, walked over to the front of her desk, and took the bottle. He lifted it and took a large gulp. "Death sucks," he added, sliding the bottle back over to her._

_Cuddy stared at the bottle for a moment before picking it up again. She nodded before taking another drink. "Yes. Yes it does."_

* * *

House and Cuddy were going to take their children and Adam Wilson to the hospital with them to allow Wilson and Ann some time to talk. Shortly before they left, Celia gathered her grandchildren and went back to her son's home where she was staying during their visit. After she left, Arlene closed the door and smiled at her family, "Well I'm going to go visit a friend while you find a way to introduce work into your vacation."

"You have a friend?" House asked.

"We're going to the hospital to visit people, Mom," Cuddy justified, "We spent a significant portion of our lives there with many of those people."

"Well, it doesn't surprise me that your coworkers would be important to you, you've always prioritized work over a personal life."

Cuddy decided to let the comment go, deciding she was more interested in getting out of there than in fighting any battles with her mother.

"That's part of why I think it's a good idea for me to move closer to you. You need someone to remind you that life is about more than working."

Cuddy was looking through the contents of her purse when Arlene made her statement, and Cuddy could be seen visibly slowing as she tried to make sure she had correctly heard her mother. "Moving?" Cuddy asked.

"Yes, I already spoke to Greg."

Cuddy's eyes quickly shot at House, who raised a defensive hand, "Earlier today. She…mentioned it."

"I'm going to live with Celia," Arlene said calmly.

"Did you talk to Julia?" Cuddy asked.

"Not yet, but I will."

Cuddy nodded slowly, "She might be really hurt if she hears you're moving. She…and the kids…are used to having you around."

"I know," Arlene stated, "Probably only for a few years, then I might come back, or even split time, I'm sure Julia wouldn't mind me living with her when I visit…you are the one who puts me out back in the shed when I show up."

"The shed?" Cuddy asked.

The guest home they maintained in Barbados was out back, but certainly comfortable and nicely furnished, a far cry from a shed, in many ways nicer than many people's homes.

"Well," Arlene said, "don't get me wrong, it's fancy, but certainly not _home_. It's just odd that people come to visit you, and you don't invite them into your home. It seems symbolic in some way, doesn't it? Keeping me…or any of your guests…in the back yard."

"You're in our home most of the time while you visit. It gives you a comfortable place to sleep, some privacy…"

"Right," Arlene answered dryly, "Privacy for you."

"OK," Cuddy answered, her voice tight, "Well, you know we'd love to have you." Cuddy knew without looking at House the look of disapproving horror that was likely across his face. She took her mother's arm. "We'll talk about it more later. I'm sure the kids would be thrilled to have you around. It would be fun for all of us."

Arlene went to her own car, while House, Cuddy and the three kids went to the hospital. "Has your definition of _fun_ changed?" House asked incredulously as they drove.

"What was I supposed to say?" Cuddy whispered back, so the children who were chatting amongst themselves and listening to music wouldn't hear their discussion.

"You could say, 'Stay home, you wretched woman.'"

"I'm not going to tell my mother to stay home. Maybe we can…figure something out."

"Maybe," he sighed.

"You…you knew about it, and couldn't even warn me. Maybe if I would have had some advanced warning, I could have handled it better."

"I was planning on talking to you privately when the _extinguisher of fun_ was gone."

"We gotta figure something out. I love my mother, but I don't want her living less than a five minute walk away. We never get along when we are too close. We barely get along living two-thousand miles apart, but…she is my mother."

"We'll…try to work something out so that you don't have to live too close to her, and you don't have to listen to her tell you how ungrateful you are and what a shitty daughter you've become."

* * *

House went immediately up to Chase's office while Cuddy went to visit friends and former employees in different departments throughout the hospital. Chase embraced House warmly on sight, "About time you got back to working," Chase said. "You said you wouldn't be a stranger and we haven't seen you here for what, two years?"

"Careful what you wish for, Chase," House smirked, "I'm guessing Cuddy and I will be visiting a little more."

Chase had recaptured much of the enthusiasm that he had for his job in his earlier years, and had really grown as head of the department.

"Wonderful," Chase answered, "and where did you steal these lovely children from. I'm sure they couldn't possibly be yours, they're far too old."

Jack immediately extended a hand. He had met Chase before, in Barbados, and he was immediately fond of his father's former protégé.

"Are you Jack?" Chase asked, "You're practically a man."

"I am," Jack stated certainly. "I'm here because maybe I can help."

"I'm quite certain we do need your help," Chase answered. "And Miss Ava? You made her stay back at home in Barbados?"

"She's right there."

Chase turned, "Ava, it is so wonderful to see you, so grown!"

"Careful, kid," House joked, "Chase has a thing for younger women."

House eagerly awaited the snarky response of his daughter, and when one didn't come, he turned to see if she was alright. He saw her delicately shaking Chase's hand and then heading toward the sitting area. Chase was initially surprised at the snub, since Ava was quite friendly with him by the end of their last visit. House handed Jack a backpack that had many things in it to keep the kids occupied, and the three of them went to the sofa while House and his former fellow sat at the larger conference room table. Chase introduced two new fellows to House and then smiled awkwardly, "I guess I should let you know…Cameron's coming back."

"To work with _you_?" House asked with surprise.

"Yea, to work with me. She left this morning to go home and get everything in order to move back here."

"Interesting. Good for you. Good for her. Now give me the damn file."

"You don't have any sort of…warning…snide comments…"

"Nope. I don't have to work here, you deal with it. Let me know how it goes with her taking orders from you."

"We're professionals."

"Oh, yea," House said with overt sarcasm, "You and Cameron have always behaved professionally."

The two new fellows at the table were quickly looking back and forth between their boss and the legend they had heard of many times before. House looked down at his cell phone, seeing his mother's number, and dismissing the call. He assumed she was calling to update him on Frank's grandson's bone marrow transplant, and figured he'd call back later.

"You want to talk about it privately?" Chase asked.

"Nope, I'm staying out of it. I want to talk about the patient," House said as he stashed his phone back in his pocket.

"We can handle it."

"I'm sure you can," House said holding out his hand demandingly, "I'm also sure that you can give me the damn file."

Chase handed case files to House and the entire team. While they were reading through the information, House was momentarily distracted by the discussion between the children. "Are you talking about me?" Adam asked Jack.

Jack began speaking in animated, fluent Japanese.

"Shut up," Ava demanded.

"Ava," House warned distractedly.

Jack began to giggle, and then, still in Japanese, he was offering a sing-songy taunt at his sister.

"What are you saying?" Adam asked Jack.

"He's just being weird," Ava said to Adam, blushing furiously. "And I said shut up, Jack."

Jack was giggling so hard he was rolling against the edge of the sofa as he began his taunt again.

House looked up from the file and pointed at each child in turn, "You, stop telling him to shut up, and you, it's not funny, leave her alone."

House went back to reading the file. "I still half expect you to…encourage disagreements between them," Chase teased. "Pit them against each other, use competition between them to test their mettle."

"They're way too smart to go for that crap," House countered as he flipped pages in the case file. "Only overconfident yet insecure doctors are so easily manipulated."

House looked down at his vibrating cell phone and saw his mother's number again, electing to ignore the call for a little while longer while he worked on the case.

The doctors conducted a rather intense DDX, House enjoying the familiar setting and the company of one of his favorite fellows.

* * *

House and Chase were waiting for test results a few hours later, catching up. "Was that…Japanese Jack was speaking?" Chase asked.

"Yea," House answered.

"Where did your children learn to speak such fluent Japanese?"

"Taro, a guy who used to live near us…until he went back to Japan. He taught them. Jack is really quick with languages."

"Our patient speaks Japanese," Chase mentioned. "If they want to practice their language skills with a native speaker again."

"He speaks Japanese?" House asked.

"Yea. He was born in Japan."

"It's VKH."

"VKH? No poliosis, no skin symptoms at all…no alopecia."

"Because vision and hearing problems just started. Could be months before hair loss and skin problems surface."

"OK, we can do a lumbar puncture. Test for uveitis. I'll start some immunosuppressants and we'll see if she responds."

The fellows returned to the room, and Chase updated them, giving them instructions. While they were there, Cuddy walked into the room. House smirked at her over one of the fellow's shoulders. He felt that jolt of excitement at seeing her burst into his old office, looking for him.

"Need to talk to you," she said past the group.

He smirked at her, "Am I in trouble, Cuddy?" he asked, happily reenacting so many moments from their past.

"In private," she requested.

"Of course," he answered, leering suggestively.

She waited impatiently, and he noticed her eyes were red. He turned quickly to check on his children, seeing them playing in the next room with Adam, and feeling the surge of panic that welled briefly settling when he saw that they were fine. "OK," he sighed, slipping between the two fellows to join her out in the hall.

"VKH…pretty sure," he said as he closed the office door and followed her.

"House…I don't know how to say this," she said while she led him to one of the family privacy areas that was available on the floor. "I got a call from Frank."

"Mom's been trying to call," House said as he dropped onto the loveseat. He sighed, asking the question as if the problem was completely expected, "Something wrong with Mike? What is it, they can't do the marrow transplant?"

"They scheduled it for Friday," she said, her voice cracking and tears welling in her eyes.

"Good," he said, nodding, "Not sure why that's water-works worthy."

"Frank didn't call because of Mike. It's your mom…"

"Yea, she called a few times, what does she need?"

"It wasn't her calling. Frank was using her phone," at that point, tears began to slip down Cuddy's cheeks.

"What's wrong with Mom?" he asked somberly.

"She didn't show up for breakfast. Frank called hotel security to let him in. They think she had a stroke last night. She died, House."

House stared blankly ahead and nodded. "OK," he said, standing up. "You OK?" he asked her.

"Am _I _OK?" she asked. "Are _you _OK?"

"Yea," he shrugged matter-of-factly. "She was old. It was bound to happen sometime."

He started to walk past, and stopped, leaning back toward her. "I hope you're alright."

"I'm worried about you," she said softly. "You need to tell me what you want me to do. What do you need from me?"

House grimaced a little as he thought, "Can you…handle the details?"

She nodded, "Of course."

"Thanks," he answered, still calm.

"Do you want her buried by your dad?"

He shook his head.

"You can take some time to think about it. I own a few plots around Rachel. If you want one for your mom, that's fine with me."

House rubbed the back of his head, scratching his neck as he thought, "She wanted cremated, so we won't need a spot."

"You want me to have her body flown back here to be cremated?" She knew House was stunned, although he remained stoic. "You can take some time to think about it. Once you decide, I'll set it up."

"I need some time to think," he answered.

Cuddy's face twisted with momentary concern, but they had established a precedent of trust years ago when Kate had been shot. At times like that, however, it was still hard. He could see the worry in her eyes, and she knew that beneath his calm exterior, he was hurt.

"You want me to talk to the kids?" she asked.

"I'll do it then," he answered.

She watched as he trudged down the hall.

* * *

A few hours later, she found him, exactly where she had suspected she'd find him, on the roof of the hospital. She slipped by the heavy door, holding out a bottle of whiskey. "You mind a visitor?"

The sky was pink and orange along the horizon as the sun set, the symbolism not lost on either of them. He tapped the ground next to him. "Don't mind."

She opened the whiskey, took a long slug, and handed him the bottle. He smiled as she suppressed a small cough from the strength of the drink. "Wilson came to pick up the kids."

"That was nice."

"I thought you'd rather talk to them later, at Wilson's."

"Better in private," he nodded taking a hard hit from the bottle.

"If you want to be alone I'll go."

"Nope. I had some time to think."

"OK," she commented with an accepting shrug.

"Ava has a crush on _Chase_," House said, confused.

"She told you that?"

"Jack was giving her hell about it."

"Wow. Didn't see that coming."

"Me neither," he said as he took another drink.

"Jack was teasing her in front of everyone?"

"In Japanese. No one else knew what was going on. I should have been suspicious when Chase said 'hi' and she was so quiet." House leaned toward his wife, feeling the warmth of her next to him. "Can we have her body brought back here?" he asked, subtly shifting to his mother.

"I'll set it up," Cuddy answered.

She could feel the emotion setting in over him. He cleared his throat, shifting to easier topics, "Weird thing…the kids…speaking Japanese, actually cued me in to the diagnosis."

"Really?"

"Yea. At least I think that's what it is. We'll see if my guess was right or if Chase's pretty face comes up here to find me to tell me I was wrong."

Cuddy nodded.

"I should have expected it," he said, switching back to the discussion of his mother. "I mean…people don't live forever. She was…really old."

"She really seemed OK though. I didn't see anything odd."

"Neither did I. There was nothing to see. Nothing to diagnose. Just…the end of life."

"It's good you got to tell her…about how you felt…about the past."

"Is it?"

Cuddy sighed, "It's good for you. I don't know about her. It was hard for you…I _know_ how difficult it was for you to let her see that. If you didn't tell her when you did, you'd carry that around for the rest of your life."

House nodded. They drank for a few moments in silence. "Death sucks," he said, his voice cracking almost unnoticeably.

"That it does," she concurred.


	27. Truths

_A/N-Thanks to everyone who sent me a review: IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, OldSFfan, Jane Q. Doe, JLCH, housebound, BJAllen815, Zaydasky, dmarchl21, ClareBear14, Suzieqlondon, IwuvHouse, Hspirito, Abby, Bakerstreet Blues, HuddyGirl, Alex, LapizSilkwood, Josam, partypantscuddy, Mon Fogel, CaptainK8 and the Anonymous Guest reviewers._

_OK…early flashback here. Thanks for reading!_

* * *

_**-Michigan, 1989-**_

"_Dream on, little girl," Jaime said as she sidled up next to her friend a few feet from the door of their next class._

_Jaime was a med student, six years older than her friend. After meeting, they quickly became close, and she considered herself a mentor to the young undergrad._

"_What?" Cuddy huffed._

"_He is not into you, honey. Trust me, you aren't his type."_

"_You sure?" Cuddy asked confidently._

"_OK, fine. Who cares what his type is…he isn't your type. He is an asshole," Jaime said, nodding toward House, who was busy explaining to another med student exactly how stupid he seemed during an earlier presentation._

"_He's not an asshole, he's complicated."_

"_He's an asshole."_

"_I like a guy who doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve. Rough on the outside. Almost emotionally impenetrable. Someone you have to…get to. Besides, I think he's just misunderstood."_

"_And you want to be the girl to _understand_ him?"_

_Cuddy chuckled, "Look at him…are you really trying to tell me you wouldn't like to _understand_ him a few times?"_

"_Not my type"_

"_Sometimes the guys that seem the most…difficult are the ones that love their mothers and are these…closet romantics. The guys that seem not to care at all are really the ones that do. It makes their feelings more…raw and real. It's sexy."_

"_Condescending and rude is your idea of sexy?"_

_Cuddy shrugged looking past her friend while House was still lecturing the other student for his stupidity._

_Jaime took her friend's arm and stood directly in front of Cuddy, blocking House from the undergrad's line of sight. "You are young and naïve. You'll learn eventually, when you grow out of this bad boy phase. I like men I don't feel like strangling. Besides, he's too old for you."_

"_Older men are so much better in bed."_

"_How many older men have you actually slept with, oh wise woman of the world?" _

_Cuddy scowled. "Maybe I just want a guy who isn't done by the time he gets my panties off."_

_Jaime erupted in laughter, "Lofty expectations. You act like you have all this experience…but how many guys have you actually slept with?"_

_Ignoring the question, Cuddy observed, "There's just…something about him."_

"_Save yourself the trouble. You have plenty of options that won't take that much work."_

"_I love a challenge."_

"_So why don't you go over there and ask him out?"_

"_No…too easy. Too boring"_

"_This is a game?"_

"_God, yes. Believe me, he likes a challenge just as much as I do. I can tell. Anyway, anticipation fuels the fire."_

"_Fire is right. You're gonna get burned."_

"_It's just a crush. I'm too smart to get involved with some…self-assured med student. No matter how much I may want to..."_

_At the end of class, Jaime watched as Cuddy stood from her seat, second row from the front, third seat from center, and she walked past him in his seat, pausing just slightly to offer a flirtatious smile to the guy who had his legs kicked out to one side and his arms extended over the seats to either side, occupying more space than his size to avoid any unwanted companions. Jaime saw his response to the undergrad's flirtation, a subtle half smile with eyes that locked on hers with blatant flirtation. The entire exchange took mere seconds._

_When the women were finally outside, squinting from the sunlight, Jaime said, "Stop whatever you are doing, cancel all of your plans for the next forty-eight hours, and go have insanely good sex with him."_

_Cuddy laughed, "After all of the warnings? What brought that on?"_

"_There's enough electricity between the two of you to light the eastern seaboard for a year. Get it out of your systems. It's just attraction. Believe me, once you guys actually do it, you'll both lose interest. Shit that intense never lasts, but the sex will be phenomenal. Just go, get it over with or the two of you will waste years on this stupid game only to find out it's nothing more than sex."_

* * *

That evening, after House learned that his mother had died, he calmly explained to Ava and Jack what had happened. He explained the nature of a stroke, and what it does to the body. He told them about the permanence of death and how it was OK to experience grief in different ways. He understood that anger, sadness, guilt, so many different emotions, could surface when grieving, and he wanted them to know that he accepted their grief however it manifested itself.

Jack felt his father's emotions beneath the surface. Sadness, anger, frustration and confusion emanated from House. The boy leaned against his father's chest and hugged him. Ava stood by his side and hugged him as well, each of the children crying softly over the loss. With calm and too much ease, he supported them. Understanding their grief was easier than experiencing his own, and strangely it felt like a moment of respite in his own busy mind.

"You must be really sad," Jack said while he hugged his father.

House stared down at the top of his son's head and said uncertainly, "Yea."

"What about heaven?" Ava asked. "Is there a heaven, or isn't there?"

"Depends on who you ask," House answered.

"What about you though…do you think there's one?" she pressed.

"I've never seen anything that makes me believe that there's a heaven, so I say no. But, you can talk to Celia. She thinks I'm a complete moron for not believing in it. She could provide you with another perspective if you want to hear more than one opinion."

House didn't want to lie to them, and he didn't want to erase the one glimmer of hope that many people held onto with the death of a loved one: the hope that the person carried on in some other form or on some other plane.

"What about you, Mom?" Ava asked.

"I think that the afterlife is one of those things that no one really knows about for sure, but I don't think that there's a heaven like you see on cartoons…with angels with wings and big shiny gates. I _also_ don't think death is the end. I carry your sister with me all of the time. I can feel her with me. Sometimes I can almost hear her voice," Cuddy said while she ran her fingers against her cheeks to remove her tears before pulling Ava closer for a hug.

"So where is she? If she isn't in heaven, where is she?"

"I think people continue on in our thoughts, in our hearts and…sort of all around us. They don't have bodies…they don't have to be certain places."

"If they don't have bodies, how do they eat?" Jack asked.

Cuddy chuckled, "They don't, Buddy."

Jack furrowed his brow and then looked up at his father, "I need a snack."

* * *

The next couple of days were a jumble of preparations and activity, most of which Cuddy took care of while House remained occupied. He helped finish the case at the hospital, and found that his diagnosis of VKH was correct. He busied himself with Wilson in the game room, and hanging out with the kids. All of which were pleasantly distracting ways to spend his time, but it was easy to see he was going through the motions and simply accepting the distractions as alternatives to more serious thoughts.

Cuddy was in the dining room at Wilson's, papers strewn across the top of the table. Wilson's dining room had become funeral central operations. It took time, and a lot of planning, but everything seemed to be coming together.

The night before the funeral was a Wednesday. After the kids were in bed, House sat on the sofa, staring ahead at the TV while channels flashed against his sight, his thumb maintaining the steady progression of changing images. Cuddy walked into the living room, standing off to the side. "It's Wednesday," she suggested.

His eyes fleetingly slipped from the TV to her and back to the TV. "Can we skip a week?"

"Nope," she said, shaking her head. "I'll take you for a drink. Nothing fancy."

He looked up at her again, his thumb finally ceasing its steady presses on the remote control. Staring blankly for a moment he mumbled, "OK."

"I don't even expect conversation," she offered, "Just company."

He nodded and stood, obviously humoring her.

She took him to a bar they had been to before, a quiet, mellow place that often featured local talent. House used to enjoy going there. He nursed his drink while he listened, exchanging a few words and trying to get lost in something other than the feeling of being lost. When the second band began to play, he looked obviously annoyed by their lack of talent. Cuddy stood, leading him from the bar and out into the night air. They began to walk, obviously not going back to their car, when he led them toward a park they both used to frequent when they worked at PPTH.

House was taking in the familiar sights, leading them toward a fountain in the distance. They found a picnic table, and Cuddy sat on the table top, her feet on the bench. He sat on the bench next to her legs and remained in silence. He seemed so remarkably at ease. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked, brushing his shoulder with her fingertips.

"Feeling alright? Yea, sure."

"Are you _sure_?"

House groaned, "Do I have to divulge my deepest feelings right now?"

"No, you don't," she said, deciding to abandon the line of discussion since he was obviously not in the mood to elaborate on his feelings.

It seemed they weren't going to discuss the subject further when he abruptly asked, "How in the fuck am I _supposed_ to feel?"

She felt his anger, and glanced down at her folded hands, waiting. "It doesn't matter how you are _supposed_ to feel. I was just curious about how you _actually_ felt. I don't expect you to feel any specific emotion. You told the kids it was fine to experience grief however it manifests itself…why doesn't that apply to you?"

"I don't even know how in the hell I feel. I can't even…identify it," he said angrily.

"OK," she answered.

"OK? You aren't going to try to tell me how I feel?"

"No, House," she said calmly.

"I'm sure you have some sort of idea what I'm thinking, you must know right? You want to…dictate my feelings, make them fit into your 'acceptable feelings' rubric," House was getting really angry, his tone accusatory.

"Oh, no. No way," she said, standing in front of him, her voice even but stern.

"No way what?" he countered angrily.

"I'll be happy to listen to whatever you have to say, if you want to say something. I'm not even pushing you to say anything at all. I just asked. I have patiently done what you need, and I've helped with everything without expectation. I don't want a thank you, but I'm not going to sit here and let you direct your anger at me. You know where that leads for us. This is where bad things start between us. So get angry, be furious, or don't, but don't turn me into your enemy. A fight with me is not going to make you feel better."

House scowled, the anger obvious behind his eyes, but as she looked right at him, refusing to back down, she saw his rage fizzle. His head bowed slightly as his lungs emptied.

She began to speak, sympathetically, "I'm not forcing you to talk about it if you aren't ready. But if you want to…"

"Part of me feels…sad. I don't know why."

"Your mother died. Isn't that a good reason to be sad?"

"We were hardly close…and how much can I blame her for that. I avoided her like the fucking plague, and she didn't really come around until there were grandchildren to see. I finally…got to let her know a lifetime's worth of shit...about Dad…about how she let me down…and then she fucking dies."

"I'm glad you got to tell her. That way you don't have to carry it around with you."

"And I get to always remember that during her last visit, I told her she was a crappy mother."

"That was one part of the last visit. You made sure she knew something that…she really _needed_ to know. And you also showed her that, in spite of that, you still loved her. She had the chance to apologize to you. She's probably wanted to do that for a long time. To get secrets and things unspoken out in the open. To tell you how much she loved you and really express how sorry she was over what happened. I think you both needed that."

"Maybe"

"It was hard for her…for you. But things like that, left buried, can poison a person. They _have _been a poison to both of you. And it wasn't all pretty and tied up with perfect bow…it was…sloppy and painful and full of real hurt," she placed her hand flat, opened on his chest. "But you put it out there. You exposed that thing…that ugly secret…the pain, the sadness…you lit it up with the harsh light of day so you could both acknowledge it."

"Yea…Mr. Truth, that's me," he said doubtfully.

Cuddy shook her head, "That _is_ you. It's completely you. You've always loved showing people truth. Sometimes you…practically slap truth in peoples' faces, sometimes…you are subtle, do things to push them to discover truths on their own…sometimes, you just go there with them. There are times when your little proclamations of truth have hurt me…but I needed to hear them. And yea…sometimes when you tell people things…they get angry or hurt…but _usually_ in the long run, you tell people the things they need to hear. When your mom saw and heard all of…_that_…it was both what she needed to hear…and what you needed to say."

"I want to be the cold, heartless bastard that doesn't care that she's gone. I want to rationalize that she was old. That in some ways, she failed me. That I'm angry at her or that…I just don't fucking care. And yet…"

"You do…"

He nodded at her, tears in his eyes while he clenched his jaw to try to maintain some control. "Sometimes, I think that I've grown, that I've moved past all of that, and then something like this happens. If it was you…if you…were the one I was burying tomorrow, I know I would have already relapsed. I'd be lying if I pretended like the thought didn't cross my mind."

He looked up at her, his eyes showing his concern for her reaction. "You can't…expect yourself to not want that crutch when really bad things happen," she said calmly. "If you claimed it wasn't on your mind, I'd assume you were in complete and total denial."

Breathing with relief, he maintained his eye contact, "So what if it was you?"

"It isn't"

"I know, but what if it was."

"I think you assume the worst in yourself, but the worst is usually not the reality. I think you would do your best to hold it together for Ava and Jack. And I think they would do their best to be there for you. So would your friends. You have people around you who actually care about you. Whether you want to or not. And Kate would be there to kick your ass you when you needed it, or piss you off with a hug. Celia will always mother you. You would survive that like you've survived everything else. A little more dinged up, but you'd make it."

"I will always worry about you dying. People don't change."

"They don't. And even though people don't change…their circumstances…their support systems, their families…those things _do_ change."

He nodded sadly, leaning his head down on her shoulder.

She kissed his forehead and smiled lovingly. "I'm sorry about your mom," she said with complete sincerity.

"Thanks," he replied. After some silence, he sat up and said, "It's so weird…there was a time when, if Mom and Dad were both dead…my whole family would have been gone."

* * *

While they were getting ready for bed, his overall mood lighter, but still subdued, he said, "So I have this great idea."

"What's that?" she asked, climbing into bed with him.

"Well, since you and I are a team…I was thinking we could both get really, really high before the funeral…because, face it, it's no fun for you either. Your mother's still alive to nag us," he teased. "I'm not sure which of us is less fortunate here."

She smiled, "She doesn't want you to feel lonely, she'll single-handedly compensate for your loss…nag with the strength of one-thousand mothers."

House actually chuckled loudly enough to be heard. "I think she could do it…I believe in her. So what do you say…wanna get really, really high…I'm talking crazy, heroin high. We could…puke on the rugs, pass out on the floor…whaddya say?"

She chuckled back, "Sorry…I don't think I can go along with that one."

"Damn," he replied, pulling her closer to him.

"I don't know if I can compete with heroin…but I can definitely try to make you feel a little better."

She had a way of touching him that always felt like healing. He wasn't sure if it was the way her skin felt against his, or the softness of her lips. Finding her in his bed felt perfect and right, and was completely reassuring. Jokes about drugs aside, she was in so many ways, his palliative. His escape. Sex with Cuddy transcended moments of pain and suffering, celebrated successes, made sweet moments sweeter, and reminded him of how lucky he felt.

When her lips found his lips, neck and collarbone, he felt his tethers to sadness slipping away, even if just for a few moments, he could be somewhere else. He could have his sadness, without being consumed by it. She offered her body wholly to him in a way that required trust. Cuddy very seldom let go of all control in their earlier days, and he used to enjoy the challenge of making her let go, of making her feel so good and so satisfied that she had no choice but to let go for a while. She did the same for him, forcing him to let go of his pain, to relinquish his unhappiness to feel so good and so satisfied that all of his needs were met for a while.

He tasted her skin as she offered it to him, lips and pieces of her. He was lost in those flashes of skin, tickles from hair, the scratches of fingernails and teeth. It was easy to compare her to a drug, but by that point, it was so much more. It was momentary salvation, a freeing from things unpleasant and a chance to be buried and hidden in a place of total acceptance and pleasure.

He felt her slide her body against his until they were connected, her tight wetness surrounding and swallowing him, devouring and dispelling his very need. It was freedom from old pains and new, but so differently from the drugs, he tended to be _better_ able to deal with the problems, sadness and anger after being with her. It fed him. She fed his soul, and calmed his body, sated his need, and later he wasn't a weaker man for the indulgence. He wasn't desperate like a detoxing junkie, or concerned for his next fix, because he trusted that it would be there. He didn't have to feel like a failure, or be consumed with guilt for caving to this need.

He ceased to think at some point, his mind going entirely blank, in a state of almost perfect existence. In moments where there was no pain, no sadness, no anger, just bodies mutually driving toward a higher sense of joy. They attained rapture together as she coordinated their actions, and he couldn't be more willing to turn himself over to her.

While they returned to reality, the sensations of the sheets beneath them, breath becoming even again, he shifted to reality from behind the haze, and he still felt good, safe and loved.

She grabbed clothes for them and nestled close as he held her possessively to him. She woke after a brief nap, a sleep that was unavoidable. She knew he was awake. She knew that there were tears being subtly shed. She reached up, as if stretching in sleep, to rest her hand on his chest reassuringly, and felt his free hand cover hers to hold it in place. "Glad I'm not doing this without you," he mumbled as she scooted even closer and pressed her hand more firmly against him.

* * *

When House woke up, he groaned as soon as his eyes focused on the sight in front of him, "You might _actually_ be the last woman in the entire world that I'd hope to find in my bed."

Arlene sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed for the funeral, sitting with obstinate dignity by his side. "It's time to get up."

"Trying to sneak a peek at me naked, aren't you?"

"Believe me that's the one sight I hope I'm never _graced_ with."

"Where's Cuddy, she let you in here?"

"Showering, I let myself in."

"Let yourself out."

"It's time to get up."

"I know," he sighed as he rubbed his face. He did not want to do what he knew he was going to do that morning. "I think I'm going to sit this one out."

"The hell you are," Arlene chuckled.

House sat part-way up, leaning back on his elbows. "You gonna drag me there?"

"No. But I know you. You're not such a mystery to me. And I know you'll go."

"Why's that?"

"Your mother…well…no matter what you think of her as a mother, or what I think of her, she _is_ your mother…and she deserves to have you there. You owe her that respect."

"I'm a disrespectful bastard. I'm sure you must have said that to me at least once or twice over the years. "

"Oh, I'm sure I have."

"All the more reason to behave _disrespectfully _true to form…and remain in bed."

"We both know you'll get up and you'll go…because your children need to say goodbye to their grandmother. They are going. And you and I both know that you are a disrespectful bastard…but, you are, in your way, a good son. And you're a good father. Too good a father to not be there with them, to make sure they are OK. So, I'm calling your bluff."

"If you already _know _that I'm going, why are you here in my bed? Hoping to inspire years of sexual dysfunction?"

"I wanted to give you something…and then you had to act like a jerk. It took me off course."

Arlene handed him a blue tie rolled tightly.

"I do actually own ties…well, Wilson does…however I think it's doubtful that I'll be wearing any of them. You thought you could…dress me? You think I'm suddenly going to start seeking your approval since my mother kicked it?"

"No, I don't think that. It was Lisa's father's. He wore it for funerals…and only for funerals…because he didn't want to ruin any of his other ties by associating them with someone's death. He was a sentimental man who remembered the strangest things. He'd remember what perfume I wore when we first started dating…or what color shirt he wore on the day Lisa was born, but if he didn't write birthdays or anniversaries down on his calendar, he'd forget them. They say that girls marry men like their fathers, and that made me laugh when I was thinking about you last night. Your mother's passing…had me thinking about him. My husband…was handsome, professional and classy. A gentleman. You…are not classy or professional…you certainly aren't the typical gentleman. And I think, even if you try to hide it…you _are_ sort of sentimental. I think that…Lisa knows how you are devoted and loyal to the point of insanity. And I know she knows that you're a good father."

House tilted his head, listening quietly to Arlene's very uncommon words. "I don't know all of the details of your childhood. I know the little your mother told me…the bits and pieces that I inferred during our discussions. I know enough to know…that your mom was a crappy excuse for a mother. She forgot that…parents are supposed to do anything to protect their children. I'm not stupid. I understood the look of guilt in her eyes," Arlene said. "Some people think I'm a bad mother, I think that _your_ mother thought that I am a bad mother. I'm sure you make comments about me. About how I'm bitchy and controlling and difficult. But you and I value the same qualities in a parent. And as much as it pains me to say it…there are a few ways that you are similar to Lisa's father. And my daughter made a good choice."

They heard the shower turn off in the adjacent bathroom, and knew Cuddy would soon be back in the bedroom. "Looks like I should be going," Arlene said as she stood and straightened the skirt of her dress. "Wear the tie…or don't. I don't care, but it's yours. For some reason I think he'd want you to have it. Or maybe I want you to have it."

Cuddy emerged from the shower wrapped in towels as Arlene's hand touched the door knob to leave. "Mom…what are you doing in here?" Cuddy asked, immediately frustrated.

"I was just telling your lazy husband that it was time to get up."

"Can we not do this today?" Cuddy pleaded.

"Apparently I'm the only one who is ready to go. You don't have all day!" Arlene countered as she smirked and nodded briefly at House before leaving the room.

Cuddy looked over at House, finding a slightly confused smile on his face, but certainly not the look of frustration or anger that she had expected to find. "I'm sorry she's on your case already."

"She was just trying to get a peek at the goods."

Cuddy chuckled, "Yes…I'm sure."

"Actually, she was…doing her impression of being nice."


	28. Faith

_A/N-Thanks to everyone who sent me a review since the last post: IHeartHouseCuddy, OldSFfan, HuddyGirl, IwuvHouse, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, Abby, Hspirito, TheHouseWitch, Josam, dmarchl21, jkarr, Suzieqlondon, ClareBear14, housebound, Little Greg, Alex, and CaptainK8._

_Have a great weekend!  
_

* * *

_**-The Christmas after House got out of jail and moved in with Kate-**_

_House and Kate were walking out of the hospital on Christmas Eve. He knew that she turned down a date that night to hang out with him, even though she tried to hide that fact from him. He looked at her texts while she was talking to another doctor. The last outgoing message from Kate's phone read simply, "Sorry, can't meet up tonight. Call you soon."_

_He wasn't even living in her home very long at that point, but the two were quick friends, and almost immediately inseparable. When they were walking out that night, they saw Celia sitting at the valet desk, packing her things. They said goodnight to the older woman, whom House had been "stealing" food from for weeks. Celia stopped them, "Hey, what are you two doing for Christmas? Gonna go and pick up some pretty little she-elves?"_

"_Not tonight," Kate said, "We'll probably drink too much, and microwave leftovers."_

_House nodded, "I'm ignoring Christmas this year. I'm really religious. I only celebrate Christmas with Jews."_

_Celia looked at him, "You only celebrate Christmas with Jews?"_

"_Trust me, all of the Jews in my gang knew how to do Christmas right," he said, smirking slightly for a moment when he remembered the one Christmas Day that he spent with Cuddy and Rachel and a few he spent with Wilson. Those Christmases weren't stereotypical holiday celebrations, but they were days off of work that were fun and not at all lonely. _

_When his smile fell, Celia said, "Then I'll pretend to be Jewish, but I'm eating my damn ham. Come have dinner with me."_

"_What about your family?" Kate asked Celia._

"_The local ones are in Hawaii for Christmas. The others are flying home next week…when the whole family can be together."_

"_It'll be fun next week, but sucks for you for tomorrow," Kate said._

"_Come home with me tonight," Celia offered sincerely._

"_An old woman, a lesbian and a middle-aged cripple…that's like…the hottest threesome ever," House said loudly enough for anyone in the lobby to hear._

"_Damn pervert," Celia said as she giggled. "I'm serious. Go home and grab some clothes. Come to my place, we'll do Christmas like I did for my kids. I don't have much food in the house, we'll stop at the store, get everything we need. I love to cook, and I know you love to eat." _

"_It'll ruin our big plans…the whole getting drunk part?" House asked._

"_You two idiots can drink all you want, so long as you don't mess up my place. You break you buy it, you puke on it, you clean it."_

_House looked at Kate and they nodded._

"_I'll even have a drink with ya," Celia said, giggling merrily and clearly looking more excited about the holiday than she had before. "You can always count on me for unsolicited advice, and a gooooood warm meal. Stick with me, kids…you won't go hungry!"_

* * *

House stood in the living room, waiting for Cuddy and the kids. He wore the blue tie that Arlene gave him, but he even wore the tie in such a way that it seemed more him. The tie was knotted loosely, not quite tight against the collar of his shirt, a bit crooked and sort of rumpled in a very House-like fashion.

Kate flew up from Barbados overnight, and was going to drive them to and from the short service. Cuddy rushed into the front room, practically jogging. Before House could speak, she held up her hand, "Just listen, don't make a big deal about Ava's clothes…but don't ignore them either. I know it's easy to forget sometimes, but she's still a girl."

"Our daughter's a girl?" he asked with sarcastic shock.

"I just wanted to warn you so you don't overreact, and she'll get all embarrassed."

"What you are you talking about?"

"That tie looks really good on you," she observed off-handedly.

"Thanks," he acknowledged, looking down at it briefly and then continuing. "So what do I need to do about Ava?"

"See how I commented about your tie. I looked at it…I told you it looked good without making a big deal out of it? If I made a big deal out of it…that would make you self-conscious, and you'd take it off. Or if you kept it on you'd feel all…uncomfortable and exposed."

"I wouldn't…" he began, but he saw Cuddy's incredulous expression, "OK, fine. You're right. It would make me a little uncomfortable if you freaked over it."

"Your opinion…your acceptance, _really_ matters to her. You know that. I didn't want you to be surprised. So when you see Ava, treat her like she's you…but a girl…and a kid…"

"What exactly am I supposed to not…" House stopped when Ava and Jack walked into the room.

Ava, very much the stereotypical tomboy, was wearing a dress. It wasn't particularly frilly or fancy, but it was unmistakably a dress. She usually avoided them at all costs, and the one time when Cuddy talked her into wearing one years earlier, the girl put her jeans on underneath it. Since that day, they hadn't asked Ava to wear any dresses. Ann took the kids shopping for clothes for the funeral, and Cuddy had no idea what the children had selected until that morning. Ava already looked very self-conscious. "You guys look good," House said casually to both of the kids.

They started to walk toward the door and House stopped Ava right after Jack and Cuddy stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Hey," he said to his daughter. "Honestly, do I look like a huge dork?" he asked pointing at his tie.

"Of course you do!" Ava teased.

When he looked away she grabbed his hand, "I was just kidding, Dad. You look good. Very handsome. Nana would have loved it."

She looked up at him sheepishly, "Do I look like a dork?"

"God, no," he said calmly. "Your Nana would have loved it. You look beautiful."

"Thanks," she said, a bit embarrassed, but happy.

He stood sort of proudly, faking macho confidence and answered, "You know how it is, kid…you and me…we look gorgeous in everything we wear."

Ava giggled, "True."

Outside, Kate was hugging Jack and Cuddy, offering condolences. Quickly hugging Ava, Kate whispered, "You look so grown up." Ana smiled and Kate continued, "I'm really sorry about your grandmother."

Walking over to House, Kate held out an arm to hug him and he scoffed, "Always looking for an opportunity to rub all over me."

"Oh, yea," Kate exclaimed, sarcastically, "nothing better than the feeling of a big strong man."

House allowed her hug and she looked up, "Sorry I couldn't be here sooner. You holding together OK?"

House nodded, looking away, and she patted his arm and said, "You ready to go do this?"

"Yup," he said as they got in the car.

* * *

It was a warm, clear morning. There were no clouds or darkened skies to reflect the somber feelings of loss, no raindrops to blame for the tears. They decided to have the short memorial service in an available room at the same cemetery where Rachel was buried to avoid holding the ceremony at a church. They had asked Celia to officiate the service. Celia had married House and Cuddy years earlier since she was a minister, and she was their go-to for any such services because of her respect for the variety of beliefs that existed in the family. As parents, House and Cuddy felt the funeral, the sense of closure and chance to say goodbye, was important for their children.

House stood nervously off to the side, pacing. There weren't many seats because they expected only their immediate family, a very small crowd of close friends, perhaps a few distant family members and some professional associates.

To their surprise, two aging, withered marines entered the space first. They were in full uniform, and trudged slowly to the front. House stopped pacing, and stood over with Cuddy and the children, watching curiously as the two old men went upfront to look at a framed picture of Blythe, and one of her with her family that were at a table at the front. There was also a photo album for people to peruse of Blythe's early life. Apart from one photo of Blythe with her son when he was a toddler, House didn't have to ask Cuddy not to include photos of his childhood, it was simply understood. There were more flowers there than what they had expected, many from professional contacts.

The old men walked over to House, shook his hand and Cuddy's, and offered their condolences. The family quietly endured tales of how wonderful John House was from the men who seemed far too frail to argue with. House was somewhat amused by the fact that these men, or men much like them, probably intimidated the hell out of him as a small boy. The marines took their seats while more people wandered into the room.

Chase and Cameron came next, and House's brain quickly latched on to the interesting question of why they were there together. Cameron saw the curious look in House's eye immediately and said, "It's not a date. In any way. Who takes a date to a funeral?"

"Apparently, the two of you do," House countered.

"I'm still married," she said confidently. "But I flew in and don't have my own car. Chase is a good enough friend to drive me."

"It's a date," House taunted.

"No, it isn't," Chase answered calmly, "I didn't realize I needed a date for a funeral." He looked down at Ava and Jack, smiled momentarily, and then said, "Since I need a date…Miss Ava, could you accompany me to the front…tell me about all of these lovely pictures of your grandmother?"

Ava stared ahead at Chase, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. It was obvious the girl had no idea how to respond, so after a few seconds she nodded tentatively.

"Wonderful," Chase said, and reached out his hand for hers, "Milady," he said sweetly.

When Ava took his hand, she blushed furiously, but seemed to ease a bit as they walked to the front. Cameron sat down on her haunches right by Jack. "Great," she said sadly, "Now I need a date. Where will I find an incredibly handsome bachelor last minute?"

Jack smiled with dashing confidence. "I'm handsome."

"You really are," Cameron said as Jack nodded toward the front with a smile and took Cameron's arm.

House whispered to Cuddy, "He's just like you, completely convinced of his own hotness."

Cuddy smiled and then her expression saddened as she looked past House toward the front. Chase had a hand on Ava's shoulder, and as she began to cry, he led her off to one side and hugged her comfortingly. It was there, with Chase, where she was able to let go of some of the sorrow she felt, almost as if she didn't want to hurt her parents by allowing them to see how hurt she was. Cuddy started to walk over and House took her arm, "Ava's OK."

She looked at House, nodding reluctantly. "Chase has this," he said.

* * *

There was something both overwhelming and touching about the parade of people that followed. House couldn't help but feel a little uneasy at the sheer number of people, and Cuddy politely directed conversation away from him as frequently as possible, so that he didn't have to answer all of the predictable questions about Blythe's age or the cause of her death, or respond to any of the blanket statements that were supposed to bring people solace.

There were a few other people who surprised the family when they showed up. Harrison Medford, their benefactor and Blythe's one-time boyfriend attended, as did Celia's biological children and grandchildren, and House was certainly taken off guard by the genuine sentiments expressed by Celia's one son, the surgeon, who was never fond of House's relationship with Celia, and was even less fond of the relationship when Celia moved away to Barbados.

When Frank Callahan walked into the room with his surviving children, they were immediately seen by many of the attendees. The resemblance between Frank, the two adult children he arrived with, and House, didn't go unnoticed.

Frank's son, Andrew, extended a hand, "Thank you for treating my son and arranging for the bone marrow transplant. I know the circumstances surrounding his case must have been…difficult for you."

House nodded, shaking his half-brother's hand.

It was clear, Andrew wasn't there to show his respect for Blythe, after all, she was the woman who had an affair with his father decades earlier that could have ripped his family apart. He was there to show his gratitude to the brother he didn't even know he had. "Tricia, my…our…sister," Andrew said, nodding at the woman next to him.

House nodded at the woman and accepted her handshake when it was offered. "It's good to meet you," she said stiffly, "Shame the circumstances couldn't be different."

"Thanks," House responded, trying to avoid any reaction to the surreal scene before him.

"It's not your fault our father is…the way he is," she answered.

House smirked briefly at the woman as she shooed her father and brother toward the back of the room. Much to everyone's surprise, all of the seats were quickly filled.

Celia stood at the front of the room, her voice loudly booming over the murmuring crowd, "OK, everybody, are we ready to get started?"

Cuddy took House's arm and they went to the seats saved for them at the front where Ava and Jack were already seated with Kate, Mel, and Wilson's family, Chase and Cameron in the seats behind them with Arlene, Julia and her family.

The hushed tones of conversations faded gradually, and Celia took her place at the front, behind a podium.

Celia nodded a few times, and the energy from the woman could almost be seen.

"It's been a long time since I preached in front of a crowd this size," she said, happily. "I miss it. The energy…the spirit…of a gathering…it's an entity in and of itself. I remember as a child…listening to preachers...to _real, old-school_ preachers…standing up and raining down the fire and brimstone. I remember my dear Mama…and my Grandmama…hollering their 'Amens,' and hoots of agreement. But we aren't here today for fire and brimstone."

"There's really no words I can say, that are gonna make you all feel better. Within this room, within this large, purposefully non-denominational space…I know well that there are Atheists, Jews, and Christians and that's just in the front row. Chances are good there's a few more Agnostics than people want to readily admit. Agnostics and skeptics and…people who just…aren't sure. I'm referring to people that just don't know if they can _prove_ the existence of God or an afterlife. They don't know if they _can_ know without any hesitation that their beliefs are true… I guess _faith_ is supposed to mean that you don't need proof…or understanding. That when you have questions, you can chalk it up to miracles, or the strength of a heart that _believes_ what it believes unequivocally. We've all had questions, if we haven't at one time or another, it makes me wonder…are we even human? Questioning is part of what makes us up to the very core, every bit as much as atoms and each little piece of DNA."

"There is nothing wrong with questioning. Nothing wrong with wondering. Nothing wrong with wanting to…look deeper into your beliefs, because if you come out of the other side of such a thorough searching of your soul…and you come through that with _belief, _then you've got something you can hold onto. You see, I don't care _what_ you hold dear…as long as you do hold it dear. And I don't care what you put your belief in…as long as you do it wholly and truthfully. And I don't care _who_ you love…as long as you love them truly. Different people need different things from their faith. Some people need tradition, doctrine, rote prayers, bake sales, ministers that can guide and mentor. The members of the House and Cuddy family have some of the most amazing and strongest _faith_ I have ever come across, but they are not religious. In fact, many people see them as quite the opposite. But they have…something higher and more valued than themselves: each other. There is a sense of family…of community…right there. This family puts their faith, their trust, in each other. When times are tough, that's what you have to fall on. Your faith…your support…well, let's just say it's nice if it is so strong that you can just…walk off the edge of that cliff…every time…and to _know _that you will not fall too far. To _know_ that you will land unharmed. Their faith…done their way…can get them through this and every other trial they will face."

"Blythe House was a woman of poise. Of dignity. And she loved her family so very much. She became a grandmother…years after she thought she had lost her only son. She had spoken to me from time to time about love, about regret, about the pain that parents feel over their children. Children are like…a part of you…a part of your very body…that you eventually have no control over. That's both good and bad, but you have to allow them to _become_. By the time I met her, no matter what happened with her son…she did indeed hold him dear. And she did put…all of her belief in him willingly. She loved her daughter-in-law more than she knew how to say, and she was intimidated by her too. She loved those grandchildren more than life itself."

"I'll let people who knew her better speak to her character, to her life. The truth is that what was _Blythe_ will not be conveyed here today in formalized eulogies, the truth will be spoken while looking at photo albums or talking during an afternoon walk. I've found that at funerals, people are usually both perfect, and are every attendee's best friend. Come on, no one has that many best friends, or lived a life so perfect. Remember the dead as they were in life. Their gifts, their flaws, their displays of resilience and survival, and their happiest moments too."

"On a personal note. I will miss Blythe and her visits. And I promise you, Blythe," she said, looking skyward, "I'll keep an eye on your family for you. Thank you for indulging this old woman's ramblings. Now, when we're done here, if you'd all like to walk over to the main building, perhaps you'll indulge me in a little of _my_ community. In my family…we have a really solid and consistent ritual. This ritual applies to weddings, funerals, graduations, holidays, new births…anything worth noting. My children…all of my children…" she said, pausing to smile at House and Cuddy, "know that if you're happy, sad, excited, scared or bored…you go to Mama. I will _feed _you." Celia chuckled. "There is a lot of food waiting for all of you in that building. My sister and I and our kids all put together a little something to eat. 'Cause good food makes everything better. A hell of a lot more effective than listening to me drone on."

* * *

After the ceremony was over, Cuddy found House sitting in the grass behind the building where the food was being served. He looked exhausted. There were so many interesting questions to be answered inside that room. He could watch Chase and Cameron for signs of an affair, observe the half siblings he had never met before, keep an eye out for the fireworks that would likely result when Arlene Cuddy introduced herself to Frank Callahan, but he was too tired, too drained to bring himself to deal with the crowd inside. Cuddy handed him a plate full of food and he smiled his gratitude as she sat next to him. While still chewing, he shook his head, "It's too many people and I'm too…"

"I know," she smiled.

"Thanks for bringing the food to me. I'll try to…go…be the dutiful son then."

"Actually…people should really understand…it's _your_ mom's funeral. Should be one of those days when you can do what you need to do for you without worrying about anyone else."

House nodded, a bit surprised by her reaction, but still eating hungrily. He didn't realize how hungry he was until after he began to eat.

"Are you doing OK…or…as near to OK as possible?" she asked.

He nodded, "You wanna run away with me?"

She laughed at the question they had asked each other hundreds of times. "Run away from our vacation? Where to?"

"Actually, I was kind of serious. I was thinking maybe…the Outer Banks. The place where we re-re-romanced and got married…we could show the kids."

"That sounds nice," she said, smiling.

"Cool. So let's go there for a few days before we head home."

"Sure," she smiled and nodded, "I'd love to."


	29. The Old Place

_A/N-Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter: IHeartHouseCuddy, Victoria, Mon Fogel, Josam, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, TheHouseWitch, jkarr, Alex, dmarchl21, Abby, HuddyGirl, Boo's House, CaptainK8, BJAllen815, ammeboss, and LapizSilkwood._

_Sorry this is a bit late, updates may be delayed because of the hurricane thing here on the east coast, so bear with me if Wednesday's installment is late.  
_

_**This chapter includes adult content._

* * *

After chatting with Kate for a few minutes safely outside, House decided he was ready. He was going to go inside to where all of the mourners had gathered, and try to find answers to the questions that floated in his brain. He was curious about his half siblings, and about whether Chase and Cameron were hiding something. He went to the car, opened the knot of the tie that started to become painfully constrictive, and threw the button down and tie on the backseat. He shook his shoulders again, feeling a bit more himself in his tee, and swung the car door shut.

His mother's death had certainly taken its toll, and he had, in many ways, felt muted, felt as if he was going through the necessary motions, but since the ceremony was over, the symbolic closure that he thought was so important for Ava and Jack, suddenly felt as if it was important to him as well. He limped slowly toward the main building, still teeming with people, reminding him that it was worth fighting the crowd in order to entertain his curiosities. When he walked in, he saw Cuddy trying to keep the hyper-stimulated, overwhelmed children calm.

It was in that moment that House realized just how exhausted Cuddy was. From planning the funeral, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for the children, remaining strong for him, she looked like she had little left. All of the mysteries and questions suddenly seemed drastically less important. House walked over to his family, and Jack looked up at him, tense and sad, and said with beautiful simplicity, "I want to go home."

He nodded and looked down, "Were gonna go for a little road trip, away from all of this…OK? And then we'll go home."

Jack and Ava looked up, both nodding.

"We'll try to have some fun since we're already here," House suggested.

As they walked out to the car, House stopped briefly to talk to Kate, and she met them at the car. Within a few very short hours, House, Cuddy and the kids said their goodbyes and words of appreciation to their closest friends, rented a car, and were on their way. Their first stop was simple, their apartment in Philly.

When they arrived, the place was hot and stuffy, but a few minutes with all of the windows flung open, and the place began to feel more like home. Ava dragged Jack to their rooms, showing him the highlights of the place she had known as her first permanent home with her parents. She seemed to remember so many things, and the children's tiredness abated temporarily. The sounds of the city streets below them were completely foreign to children who lived in a place where cars seldom passed directly in front of their house. Jack and Ava were on the balcony, whispering secrets and then running to Ava's room to play.

House took Cuddy out to the balcony. "I know you took care of a lot this week and I was sort of…absent."

"Are you really OK?" she asked, her eyes filled with exhaustion.

"Definitely. I really do appreciate what you did."

"You'd do the same for me."

"Oh, hell no!" he teased. "Arlene croaks and I'm putting her in a pine box soaked in whatever accelerants I can find, we'll push the old broad out to sea and light her up."

Cuddy chuckled, "You know her so well. I think that's specifically requested in Mom's will."

He smiled down at her and she sighed, relieved. "There you are," she said, noting that he seemed more himself again.

"Here I am."

They stood on the balcony, their arms occasionally brushing against each other, and House leaned toward her ear and whispered, "Do you remember night we signed the papers to buy the place."

She closed her eyes and nodded. "The place we bought so we could have Ava…little did we know she'd be living with us not long after that…and I was already pregnant with Jack."

* * *

_**-The night they bought their apartment in Philly-**_

_Once they finally had their keys, they were standing in their large home in Philly with a sense of satisfaction that one step in their plan to adopt Ava was complete. They sat on the stools that the owners left at the kitchen counter with carryout and easy conversation._

_Cuddy poked at the last of her food and asked, her eyes forward, "Did you and Stacy own that place together?"_

_"Stacy?" he asked, startled at the change in topic. "Is this a random jealous moment?"_

_"No," Cuddy said, still moving food around the container with her plastic fork. "I just…was curious if you owned a place with her."_

_"Oh, umm…no. We rented."_

_"Did you ever…talk about buying a place with her?"_

_"Yea," he shrugged, "I'm sure we did. Just didn't really get around to it."_

_"What about before her?"_

_"Nope. Why?"_

_"I was just curious. I didn't own a home with anyone else before either."_

_He scoffed, "What about Lucas?"_

_"I…told him that it was easier if I bought it alone. Since we weren't married…I thought it was simpler. I mean…of course the intention was for him to live there. You didn't notice that after I broke up with him I didn't have to…transfer it…or get his name off of the place?"_

_"I thought you kept it from me."_

_"Why would I keep that from you?"_

_House turned his whole seat to face her fully. "You can't…possibly be asking that question," he said with a near laugh._

_"Well…I left him to be with you…so why would I hide the fact that…"_

_"Cuddy, we kept…everything from each other."_

_He was facing her, but she was still looking at her food. "Yea," she conceded, "I guess we did hide a few things."_

_"We did hide a few things. As in…almost everything. Why the…sudden concern?"_

_"It isn't concern. You and I were fucked up by ourselves but…we were sort of like that with everyone. We didn't really let people into our lives. Not fully. I was thinking that I was always…half way with the men in my life. I think that…part of me didn't want to own the place with Lucas because…I had no intention of staying with him. Maybe I was hoping for something with you all along."_

_"I hope so."_

_"You hope so? That's a pretty bitchy thing to do."_

_"I like you bitchy."_

_"Nice," she giggled soundlessly. "It is weird though, right. We both…lived with other people…we both even married other people, but...a kid…home ownership…things that aren't easily undone. Things that are sort of…associated with that commitment…this is the first time we've felt comfortable. Most people by this time in their lives have kids in high school, maybe owned two or three homes."_

_"We're cautious. Neither of us cares much for being wrong."_

_"I like that we got there together," she said, almost shyly. "I guess I'm reading too much into things."_

_"You aren't," he said openly. "Although, I do have the distinct impression that you are trying to obliterate any last remnants of my bachelorhood."_

_Cuddy laughed loudly, her voice practically booming. "Oh yea? What makes you think that?"_

_"Locked me down, forced me to get married, trying to saddle me with a kid, now we own our own place…What's next?"_

_"Coordinated outfits…making you practice key phrases like, 'Yes, Dear,' and 'Whatever you want, Honey,' you know, the parts where you sign your complete will over to me."_

_"Is that all?" he laughed. "I guess I'll have to focus on the advantages."_

_"Tax breaks?" she teased._

_"Yea that's the one."_

_"There are…other advantages…" she said as she turned his bar stool to face her, her hands running up his inner thighs._

_"Oh really?"_

_"Yea, really," she said as she stood up between his legs, her hands continuing their progression upward._

_"I thought once you're married, those advantages sort of…dried up."_

_"I made wedding vows…well…post wedding vows. And I am a woman of my word."_

_She opened his jeans and he lifted off the chair so she could pull them off, her hands moving seductively back up his legs. He reached over, trying to grab the hem of her shirt and she playfully slapped his hands, "You first."_

_"Visual inspiration"_

_"So me…sucking you off lacks visual inspiration."_

_He slowly shook his head no, his jaw a little slack with a stupid grin on his face. "Whatever you want, Honey," he said, parroting her words from a few moments earlier._

_She smirked, and then crossed her arms over herself to remove her shirt, her eyes catching the wide expanse of windows across the front of the apartment and deciding to leave the shirt on for the moment. She looked down at his naked lower half and giggled, trotting across the room to close the blinds. "There's an awful lot of windows with an awful lot of eyes that could be looking in here."_

_She crossed her arms back over herself, pulling the shirt up over her head and dropping her clothes in a line as she walked closer to him until she was standing in front of him again._

_"Take your shirt off," she commanded._

_He happily complied, but before he even had fully removed the shirt, her hands were on him, stroking, massaging, and she watched as the muscles in his stomach fluttered and twitched at the feelings her hands were producing. She jerked his hips forward a little. "I love these chairs they left for us…such a perfect height."_

_He watched while she lowered her head, tilting and allowing him to see everything she was doing. The way she slowly licked from hilt to tip, swirling her tongue around him and then lavishing attention downward once again. When her lips wrapped around him and she took him into her mouth, he was almost lost. From there he could watch her, see the curves of her back to her perfect ass, watch the fingers of her one hand that occasionally left for other parts of him, adding to the sensations coursing through his body. She seemed to know how to prolong his experience in the best ways, allowing him to fully enjoy the entire experience, all of the variety of sensations, from pleasure to tension to need. When he came, he grabbed her shoulder roughly, wanting to hang on to her, his other hand trying to rest idly in her hair._

_She stood, always enjoying the completely disconnected look that she cause. A look of peace and complete ease in a person who so often lacked those things. She stood, pulling his head down onto her shoulder. "Feeling better about married life now?"_

_He nodded against her. "Yes, Dear."_

_"Oh, please," she giggled. "We'll forgo the white picket fence…and the blind agreement with whatever I say."_

_Resting against his naked wife was a quick wakeup. She yelped when he forcefully grabbed her ass. Lifting her against him and putting her on the counter, returning to his seat on the bar stool. "You are right, I love the height of this counter and these stools. It's like this place was made for us."_

_He scooted her forward, her body easily accessible in front of him, as he showered attention over her body. As he kissed from her knee and upward, he took her knees and brought them over his shoulders. She crossed her ankles, urging him closer to her and he happily complied. She shivered at his first taste of her, not tentative or teasing like it often was, but one direct swipe at her core, his tongue traveling the length of her slit, sliding through the ample wetness and tasting her desire. His tongue insistently found every fold and curve, pushing into her, moving unpredictably to keep her body rippling against him. Her climax was hard and all-consuming, her fingers grasping at the end of the counter, her legs alternating between attempts to pinch tightly closed or pull him closer._

_She was recovering, leaning against him, and he said, "So…this place is perfectly set up for sex…less perfectly set up for after-sex."_

_"I guess maybe we'll have to get actual furniture, huh?"_

_"Maybe. We'll sleep on it."_

_Later, after they were dressed and ready to go, Cuddy stood in the center of the room, hands on her hips, surveying their purchase. "Can you imagine," she said, "Maybe a piano over there…Ava sitting with you while you play. Making dinners with her here in the kitchen, movies and warm blankets on the first chilly day of fall."_

_"Hard to put up a white picket fence in an upper-level city apartment."_

_"Fine…laugh," she responded. "I love it here. This feels like home. Like the place where…hopefully…our daughter will become completely ours. Maybe we can help her put all of this behind her. Do you like it?"_

_"Yea," he nodded, "I lived in a lot of places in my early years…none of which were like this."_

_"I hope…this is the right place for her…that we can help her to…get over everything that has happened."_

_"This is a good place for a kid like her," House affirmed, "Believe me."_

* * *

Ava walked out to the living area where her parents were lulling on the sofa. "Jack's sleeping," she said. "He was really worn out."

"You remember it here?" Cuddy asked Ava.

"Oh yea," Ava nodded as she sat down next to her mom, "bits and pieces. I remember little flashes of the day you adopted me. How nervous Dad was. And I remember playing with Aunt Kate in this huge room…sliding on our socks around the room…Kate's Wednesday Night Dance Parties were legend."

"It was a good fit for us, wasn't it?" Cuddy asked.

"Any place was better than a new place every other night, or better than the place they took me from…but yea. It fit. I remember that rocker in my room…Dad coming to get me on bad nights and rocking me for hours. Do you guys…know what happened to him?"

"Who, Baby?" Cuddy said absently.

"The guy who hurt me."

Cuddy and House both looked up, a bit stunned.

"I remember him better than I remember my mom…my birth mom. I don't really…think about her much, but I still remember him. He's the one who shows up in my dreams."

"He's in jail," House said. "He'll be in jail for a few years yet."

House tracked Ava's birth mother and the man who had abused her religiously, never wanting to be taken off guard about their whereabouts.

"I want to go see him while we're here," Ava answered.

"Oh, Ava," Cuddy said with motherly concern. "Are you sure you want to do something like that?"

"I've heard of things where they have survivors confront their attackers. In my head he's…really horrible. Very scary. Sometimes, I think that if I knew what he was really like…if I could see him like a guy locked up behind bars instead of this…gigantic monster, it might help. Might…slow down my dreams."

"Might bring back some things that you've forgotten," House cautioned. "You'd have to be ready for that. And we'll have to see if he's willing to meet with you."

"Fuck what he's willing to do," Cuddy said, quickly looking at Ava, "Sorry…I shouldn't have said that, but…I think we should talk to your psychiatrist, maybe ask Aunt Kate too. It sounds good in theory but…you are still eight years old. It's a lot to handle."

Ava looked at House to get what she thought would be certain support and he nodded. "Let us check into some stuff first."

"You're kidding," Ava griped.

"I know it seems simple," Cuddy said, "But it isn't. It's our job to protect you. To make sure that we don't expose you to something that does more harm than good. I'm not saying it's a bad idea…I'm just saying that we need to make sure it's the right thing…at the right time."

Ava agreed, her posture full of disappointment. "I just don't want him in my dreams anymore. There aren't that many, they don't happen often…but when the happen…he's there."

"We're gonna go to the Franklin Museum tomorrow, I'll teach you how to eat a cheesesteak properly and we'll…drive past a bunch of stuff that I should probably point out to you to make this seem like an educational field trip. The next day, we hit the road for a few days. We'll make some calls to the right people…see if he's willing to see you…see what the experts say about your idea…talk to Kate. Then once we have all of the info…your mom and I…and you…will make a decision," House offered. "It's not the answer you want to hear, but it is the one you're going to get."

"Let's take a few days so you guys can be kids…be tourists…have some fun. We'll spend a couple of days here again after our little road trip. I promise we're taking this seriously. If you're having different dreams…or if they're worse…" House inquired.

"They aren't," Ava said calmly. "We don't come back here often. I don't want to miss my chance."

After Ava went to bed, House and Cuddy relaxed in their room, reminiscing about their time there. "Stop worrying," House said suddenly.

"Never," she replied with a sad smile. "I just guess I was hoping that she was feeling better."

House nodded, "She is. She…completely is. She's in a place where she feels safe enough…secure enough…at the age of eight...to confront the guy who attacked her as a small child. The guy who changed her life forever…who hurt her probably worse than anyone else ever has. She couldn't do that if she didn't feel safe and secure at home with us. I know it's…tough…and I know you're worried, but believe me, in a way, this is actually a good sign."

"So what's the right decision?" she asked.

"My gut says…let her do it. Support her before…and after…make sure she has what she needs to get through. But, as easy as it is to forget, you are right…she is only eight. I don't want to mess her up, but at the same time, if this is something that she's ready to deal with and it can actually help her…"

Cuddy flopped back into bed. "Damn…I just want to go home."

"Yea," House answered, "me too."


	30. Plotting

_A/N-Apologies for my brief absence from this story while I finished my short story, I just didn't have time to do both. I'm back, and back on my normal update schedule.  
_

_Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed since the last posting: IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, OldSFfan, BJAllen815, JLCH, jaybe61, housebound, KiwiClare, Josam, Boo's House, Abby, dmarchl21, HuddyGirl, Alex, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, CaptainK8, bladesmum and Guest._

* * *

The next morning, Kate picked the family up to drive them around. House and Cuddy were familiar with the city, but Kate loved showcasing the things she loved there. She had lived her entire life in Philly and the surrounding area, until she followed her friends to Barbados. The Franklin Institute was their first stop. The place was practically a place of worship for someone like House, who found that science and playing went well together.

There was a model heart that was large enough to walk through, and a group of summer camp students from middle school were loudly asking questions. One student was making fun of another student's lack of knowledge, bragging about his understanding of the chambers of the heart and important blood vessels and Ava looked at the student who was doing the taunting, "My five year-old brother knows that stuff."

Jack smiled at the group and proudly displayed his knowledge. The older students were clearly taken aback. Strangely, in that group of people with numerous questions, Ava came alive. Suddenly her dislike of groups of unknown people faded as she taught. She took the group through the heart, showing them both with clear and correct scientific terminology, and simple lay terms, exactly how the heart worked. Ava was a wonderful teacher.

Jack walked out of the heart after Ava took the second group through, and rolled his eyes. "The teacher wants her to take the other three groups in. I'm tired of hearts."

Cuddy smiled, reaching out her hand to Jack so they could look at other exhibits until Ava was done with the students. Kate stood by House, "She is an amazing teacher. She could probably graduate from med school before most kids would start college."

"Except she has no interest in medicine," House said, a bit disappointed.

"You guys could have a show…father and daughter diagnostics team…like the local father and child mechanic…but with vastly different fluids."

House smirked, leaning against a wall, "Wanted to talk to you…"

Kate leaned next to him, and gestured for him to continue, "Shoot."

"Ava…wants to see the fucker who messed her up."

Kate nodded, staring ahead.

House continued, "We told her that we'd talk to you…and we'd talk to the worthless third party shrink too."

Kate smiled, "Saunders is a good shrink. She knows kids who have been through this stuff, knows how it impacts them, how to deal with issues as they come up."

"Ava doesn't like her."

"Saunders sees right through bullshit. Points out a lot of things that people may not want to hear. It pisses Ava off, but I still think the kid likes her. Or will like her down the line."

"Fine, I said I'd ask for her opinion, but I want yours too."

"Sure," Kate answered. "Tell me what she said."

"She wants to do the whole…confronting the attacker thing…seeing the man, not the monster in her head. She was two when it happened, so…" House looked more closely at Kate, and paused. "You already knew."

Without responding to House's suggestion, Kate watched Ava with the other students as they emerged from the model heart.

"Why didn't you tell me?" House asked.

"It was a private conversation."

"This is my kid," House said, looking irritated.

"I know. And she's my friend, and my niece, and one of the kids I work with."

"Her safety as _my kid _comes above the friendship code. When did she tell you? Is this why she wanted this whole…trip?"

Kate seemed completely unaffected by House's anger, "She wasn't in danger. If she told me she was sneaking there to see him, behind your back…or she was contacting him without your support and knowledge…I would have ratted her out in a heartbeat. But she wasn't. She was working through whether or not she wanted to bring it up. All she did was tell me that she was thinking about it…and that she was going to tell you."

He seemed slightly less irritated, "Is this why she wanted this trip?"

"No," Kate said, "at least not that I know of. It sounded like the idea came up when your mom died. Made her think that…she didn't want to wait until her attacker died, and let him…exist the way he is in her head forever."

"You should have mentioned it."

Kate turned, "She told me after your mom's funeral. We took a walk. So I've known for twenty-four hours. This isn't some conspiracy. Of course I suppose I could have broken her confidence…while being particularly heartless with you. I should have said, 'Hey House, sucks 'bout your mom, now let's talk about the guy who abused your kid,' while you were _at _your mother's funeral? It was _not _appropriate timing. And she came to me because she wanted me to talk to you guys, not to…go behind your back and set up a meeting, or sneak her into the prison. I promise. If she was in danger I would tell you immediately. In fact, the last I heard, she was bringing it up with you."

"Why did she go to you first?"

"Because…the whole thing's tough. Associations with her earlier life…her fear that you guys will be hurt if she wants to look into that…her fear that _she _will be hurt if she wants to look into that."

"And you decided it was best that she told us herself?"

"I told her I'd be there with her when she talked to you, if she wanted me to. But…if she was that serious about confronting her attacker, a person who didn't have her best interest in mind, that she should be comfortable in discussing it with the two people who _did_ have her best interest in mind. She told me she was mature enough to handle it…I felt she had to be willing to bring it to your attention."

House nodded. "She did."

"She really does want to do this."

"So what's the right answer?"

Kate shook her head, looking at House with concern, "This one has no easy answer. The first thing I'd do is talk to someone in the prison who knows him…support group counselor, psychologist…someone. If this guy's a sociopath, a psychopath or just…really fucked up… he'll get his rocks off controlling and scaring that little girl…and she will leave more emotionally scarred than she was. But…if he isn't…if he has any remorse at all, or if…maybe he's done some thinking over the years…it may be good for her. I think there's a value in seeing him, behind glass, shackled, and I'd make sure he's going to be shackled. Trapped. Away from her. Have guards there, ready to pull him away at a second's notice. This is scary shit, House. We can't underestimate how tough this could be."

"Did you tell her that?"

"Yea"

"And she still wanted to do it?"

"Yea. Her images of this guy, in her dreams, are horrible. He isn't really even human…which makes sense because, to me, he _really_ isn't human. Correcting that mental image might be good."

"But still risky."

"Yea. I did have some safer alternatives. I thought about asking for pictures of him. Not mugshots, pictures of him in prison. She could see him, see the reality of him. Or…I even thought about asking him to record a message to her, that way it could be previewed."

"Knowing Ava…" House said, "She probably is less interested in what he has to say to her…and more interested in what she wants to say to him."

"That's probably true. She could record a message to him. But…still, not the same as delivering something personally. Things to consider. I'd still talk to Saunders. She's the abuse expert. She is the most objective. You and I sort of…treat Ava like a little adult. It makes sense to us, because, she sort of is a little adult…but developmentally, she _is _a kid. Lisa sees that…more than we do…Saunders definitely sees it. It's probably why Saunders pisses Ava off so much."

House nodded and watched as Ava almost floated over to them, energized by sharing her knowledge. "What a bunch of idiots," Ava said with a wide grin.

"Not anymore," House smiled.

Ava grinned. "Let's see what else this place has, it's awesome."

The part that was most intriguing for both children was the exact same place in the museum. Sir Isaac's Loft, and their favorite exhibit in the Loft, was Newton's Dream. The sculpture was a large, maze-like track, where golf balls demonstrated different properties of physics. Ava loved the science, the actions and reactions. Jack loved the beauty, the energy, the graceful flow of objects as they interacted with their environment. House explained all of the principles to Ava while she made observations. The girl was simply brilliant. Jack said nothing, walking to different angles to see different parts of the sculpture. Both children were understanding it completely, but in entirely different ways. The children were enthralled. It was in many ways, the joining of their interests.

After over an hour of near-hypnosis, Jack walked over to Ava, and looked up at her, "We need to make this at home."

Ava looked at him, nodding back, "Yea, completely."

They began to plan. Jack's ideas for colors and shapes and Ava's ideas for contraptions, and they were filled with inspiration. The kids spent the rest of the day planning their monumental creation. Kate whispered to House and Cuddy while they were waiting in line for food, "Where are you guys going to put this thing?"

They both shrugged.

"Maybe they'll forget about it?" Kate asked hesitantly.

"Not a chance," House said. "Once they start plotting, they're hard to derail."

* * *

_**-Three Months Earlier-**  
_

_House was completely at ease. He finished a case, sent a patient on their way, and he was relaxing. The kids came in after school, Ava was doing homework at the table in his office, and Jack was coloring next to her. The kids were talking about things, their day, school, and then House heard something that made him pay attention. _

"_You don't really think Aunt Kate could have a boyfriend, do you?" Jack asked Ava. _

"_I don't know, but something weird is going on," Ava answered.  
_

"_What about Aunt Mel?"_

"_Look, all I know is what I saw," Ava said._

"_What exactly did you see?" House asked, sitting up and leaning over his desk toward them._

"_Nothing," Ava said, turning over her shoulder, "We were just…joking. Don't worry about it."_

"_Joking, about what?" House asked suspiciously._

"_We can't tell you, Dad, it's a secret," Jack said nervously._

"_Be quiet," Ava barked at him. "There is no secret. There's nothing going on. We were just joking."  
_

"_Get over here, both of you" House said, beckoning them both forward._

_They approached, shoving each other as they walked until they finally stood, waiting next to their father's desk._

"_Cut it out, guys," House muttered, "Seriously. Now what's going on?"_

"_I promised I wouldn't tell anybody," Jack mumbled._

"_OK…just…give me a hint," House suggested.  
_

"_No way," Ava said. "I'm not a tattletale."_

"_It's not tattling if someone needs help and you're going to your dad for help. Sometimes people need the people who care about them to intervene when they're doing something stupid."  
_

"_You just want to know what's going on," Ava accused softly._

"_I do. But…it also sounds like Aunt Kate needs help. Some…guy is chasing her? Or wants a__…_date?"

_The kids looked away._

"_OK…I understand…you are loyal…good friends. You want to protect Kate, don't want to break the bond of trust. So that means I have to figure it out on my own…how about I just list some people…and I'll try to read between the lines?"_

_Jack looked up at him, and House could see he had an ally. _

"_Is it a guy who's interning here…one of the students?" House asked._

_The kids looked away, Ava with her arms crossed, defiantly refusing participation.  
_

"_OK. The equipment repair guy?" House continued, while they still avoided his gaze. "The new psychologist?"_

_Jack's eyes looked right at his father, then darted away._

_House gave his son a half smirk and said, "Where is Kate today, here or at the other building?"_

"_The other building," Jack said, "She said she had group counseling this morning."_

"_Thanks, guys," House said as he got up, grabbed his cane, and went toward the door. "I won't say anything to link my suspicions back to you guys. I'm just going to assess the situation."_

"_Thanks," Jack said, smiling at his father while Ava sulked. _

"_I'm gonna go check up on Aunt Kate. You guys stay here, if there are any problems, Celia's right outside the door, I'll have her check on you."_

_House left and went down to the other building where Kate worked with victims of violence. He saw Kate and the new psychologist having a cup of coffee, outside in a secluded area, and watched them talking. They seemed friendly, their discussion personal and intimate, away from anyone else. _

_House was worried. Was this some sort of midlife crisis? Was Kate having problems with Mel that she didn't share with him? Why would she keep whatever was going on a secret? He watched Kate for over an hour, and he was concerned. _

_When the new psychologist had his next appointment, House grabbed Kate and pulled her aside. "What's going on with you?" he asked._

"_What do you mean?" Kate asked._

"_I know something's going on with you and…new guy."_

"_There is a great deal going on with me and new guy. Things like…work."_

"_No, you guys sipping coffee outside under a tree…that was work? Or chatting off in the corner of your office…"_

"_Yea, we were discussing a new patient."_

"_Right," House huffed.  
_

"_We were. You think I'm…having an affair…with a man? Why in the hell would I do that?"_

"_So…wait…are you trying to tell me that nothing is going on…you aren't…having any problems or crises?"_

"_No. I'm working with a new kid…she really needs both of us. We were discussing a patient. Working. Why do you always think I'm sleeping with everyone?"_

"_Years of observing slutty behavior?"_

"_I've been in a relationship for a really long time. Longer than you were able to observe any 'slutty' behavior. When will you stop?"_

"_Never!" House explained, and then the realization dawned on him. "They tricked me."_

_"Who?"  
_

_"The kids. I was set up."  
_

"_What did they do?" Kate asked, smirking._

_House was already dashing away, "Sent me on a wild good chase."_

* * *

_He flung open the door to his office. They were there, behind his computer._

"_So," House exclaimed, "What could have been…so important…wait, put the mouse down, and your hands on your head…"_

"_What?" Ava asked._

"_Stop touching the computer. I want both of you to put your hands on your head," House commanded, smiling knowingly. "The real question isn't about what Kate is up to. It is what are you up to. Why did you want me out of my office?"  
_

_"We didn't," Ava protested.  
_

_"Well played. I was so intrigued that I never stopped to think about the possibility that you were setting me up."_

_He walked around the desk, behind them, looking at the computer screen and finding an innocuous game of solitaire._

_He moved them to the side, walking between them and sitting in his chair. He minimized the game, still finding nothing, until he checked the downloads. "I told you no. Your mom, definitely told you no," House said as he found a recently downloaded game. "You know you guys weren't allowed to play this. What did your mom say?"_

"_No games where the women wear more guns than articles of clothing," Ava grumbled._

_House nodded, "You guys screwed up."_

"_You can play too," Ava smirked, "You won't tell, will ya?"_

_House looked back and forth at them. _

"_You understand, don't ya, Dad?" Jack asked._

"_I'm impressed. You guys completely fooled me." They smiled proudly, until he said, "And…I'm also your dad. You're off the computer…and TV for the week."_

_The kids sulked as he limped out of the room, meeting Cuddy as she walked toward his office._

"_How was your day?" she asked. _

"_I was outsmarted by our children."_

"_Does that mean I have to go punish them?" Cuddy sighed expectantly._

"_Nope"_

"_Nope?"_

"_I did it."_

"_Seriously? Thank you."_

"_Yea. It's a shame...to punish brilliance."_

"_I know it sucks, but if we don't give them some guidance…in two years they'll be ruling the world from their lair, hidden deep in a mountain…they'll have little puppet governments in place all over, doing their bidding… With some sort of…nefarious death ray they'll build themselves to back them up."_

_"Sounds like a nice place to get away, when we need a break," House answered.  
_


	31. Protection

_A/N-Thanks to all of the readers and reviews since the last chapter: KiwiClare, HilsonFTW, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, Tori, TheHouseWitch, Boo's House, IHeartHouseCuddy, BabalooBlue, Guest, OldSFfan, Suzieqlondon, jaybe61, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, Freya, dmarchl21, BJAllen815, LapizSilkwood, Little Greg, CaptainK8, and Mon Fogel._

_The beginning of Too Lost was largely about Cuddy, and her loss of her daughter, then later about them working together…fighting for Ava, having Jack. The beginning of this one was about House's struggle with his childhood, with his own abuse, and the loss of his mother, and is now shifting into this last major arc, which is more about an issue that impacts both of them. This story will be wrapping up soon.  
_

_Both stories tried to reflect on the ways they have both been what the other one NEEDED, and the support that is there between them unwaveringly because of their love, their loyalty to each other, and to their family, because I see them both as unrelentingly loyal and protective of those they value.  
_

_-Side note…I tried to do a one chapter epilogue for Aches and Pains to address Cuddy's aches and pains...I can't do it justice in one chapter, so I'll do a separate __short__ story sequel to address their return, and Cuddy's "loss."_

* * *

When they got back home from their tour of Philly that evening, they danced. Kate and Ava remembered the Wednesday night dance parties they had once had in the large, opened living space, stocking feet skidding across the slick hardwood floors. They listened to the radio for a while, until House got tired of the songs they were airing, and he played his piano for them. Both kids, Cuddy and Kate danced until Ava and Jack finally slinked onto the sofa and began drifting to sleep.

House put Jack to bed while Cuddy took Ava. As Cuddy tucked her daughter in, brushing the thick blond curls back from the girl's face, she asked, "You OK?"

"Yea," Ava answered softly.

"What's going on?"

"If I get to see Brian again…" Ava said as Cuddy's stomach recoiled at the sound of that name, surprised that Ava remembered the name of her attacker. "If I see him again, can you come with me?"

"Yes, of course," Cuddy responded without hesitation.

"You don't _have_ to," Ava said, feeling uncharacteristically insecure.

"Once we figure out if it's safe. Then, if you want me there, nothing can stop me."

"If I do this…I think I'm gonna _need_ you there."

"Before we make any decisions, we'll talk to Saunders."

"Why do you seem…surprised?" Ava asked.

"You like to do a lot of things on your own," Cuddy answered. "You're like me like that. When I was a kid…I wanted to prove that I was strong and independent, and I could do anything alone."

Ava smiled, "Not this."

"Sometimes, it just makes sense to have backup."

Kate stayed with the sleeping children for a half an hour so that Cuddy and House could take a walk in the city where they first owned a home together. Once the kids were settled, they stepped out. They often used to walk at night when they first moved to their apartment. They both enjoyed the way the city felt at night, the same fixtures surrounded them, the same traffic lights kept flashing, the same sidewalks waited beneath their feet, but the aura of the city shifted to something much different as the hour grew later.

"Do you miss it?" House asked.

"Living here? Yea, sometimes. I miss how simple it was to see the people we knew. I miss….shopping trips to New York with my sister. Shopping overall, actually. Online will get me what I need, sometimes it's fun to actually do. And I love the Center, but…sometimes I miss the pressure that I used to have at the hospital. It's exciting. I miss the food, the restaurants…I miss that jazz club we used to go to."

"The one we went to the night before Jack was born?"

"Yea"

"They won't let you in there anymore…since you KO'd that guy. There's a picture of you by the door…like a mug shot. That…and we'd still be the only people under eighty that go in there, so they'd be suspicious of us as soon as we cross the threshold."

Cuddy laughed at the memory. The night before Jack was born they went to a club, and when a very large, very angry man tried to start a fight with them, Cuddy reacted. "I did not knock him out. He barely even noticed."

"He was crying….begging for mercy."

"Shut up," Cuddy laughed. "I should have followed the rule we always give the kids, 'Don't use your fists, use your words.'"

They walked leisurely in silence for some time, each in their own thoughts. "Do you want to move back?" he asked while they waited at a stop light.

Cuddy stared at him for a moment while she considered her answered. "Not permanently. I like what we've built. So much of me is poured into that place…our home…our work. I am very proud of what we've accomplished. But, being here…has reminded me of the things I miss. We should come back more often. All of us. Not just, you or I coming back for a night or two to get something done before we leave. Take some cases…visit people…"

The few cars cleared out in front of them and they crossed the street, "We could do that. I'd like to take some more cases...irritate Chase. Not really into shopping with your sister…so I'll leave that to you."

She laughed, "You love shopping with Julia! Don't get me wrong, I like our home, but…I like being here too," Cuddy answered.

They walked for a few minutes, following a loop around their neighborhood that they used to follow, and in spite of the fact that it had been years, they followed it as if they had just walked it yesterday.

"Ava wants me to go with her, if she sees her…that guy," Cuddy said, ending their silent thought.

"Makes sense"

"I thought she'd want to do it alone…or maybe with you."

"You're tough. We'd all be completely screwed without you, I've been telling you that for years now. Sometimes it probably sucks being you. I think I've learned to be a dad more often than I'm just a large third kid. But if I were Ava, I'd pick you too."

"It's gonna be so hard…not to destroy him."

"I know"

"I mean…what he did to her…I hate him for it. I should try to forgive and forget but…I don't know that I can. The kid who drove the car that killed Rachel…god, he _almost_ killed me at the same time. He almost destroyed me. He broke my heart when he took my baby. As badly as that hurt…I never got the impression that he was malicious…that he actually wanted to hurt someone…the one…didn't mean to hurt anyone, but the person he hurt…died. The other…really _meant_ to hurt someone…and she lived, but look at what he did to her…he looked her in the eye. He _knew_ her…I don't know."

"Maybe…you need to confront him too," House suggested.

"Maybe I do. But I don't think anything I could ever say would be enough."

* * *

In the morning, Nadia met them for breakfast. She and Ava kept in touch through email and phone regularly. As Ava grew older, and with the help of the abuse counselor and psychiatrist, Dr. Saunders, Ava learned that Nadia had been one of the first people to protect her.

After Nadia spent some time catching up with Ava, she joined Cuddy on the sofa. "It's hard, isn't it?" Nadia began, "to even remember a time when she wasn't yours."

Cuddy nodded. "Hard to or…maybe I don't want to…I wish we could have met her sooner."

"She is so much like both of you, and my god is she smart. She is going to keep you really busy in a few years, too. She's beautiful. "

"She is beautiful. She's a great kid."

"I heard…about what she wants to do…confronting Brian…She told me."

"And?" Cuddy asked.

"Lisa…I broke more rules with that child than I have with any other. Somehow, I managed to place a girl in a home with two parents who didn't have the proper paperwork in order yet and…the guy…had a history of domestic violence. When she was first with you…you guys didn't even have your own home. You weren't the usual applicants."

"That's us…redefining criteria."

Nadia laughed, "But…it's the perfect place for her. She's growing, she's flourishing. Ava chose you. And that child is stubborn and opinionated, and she refused to be with anyone else. There was no…explaining to her that you guys weren't suitable, when you were the only people who made her feel safe and happy. And, no offense, you guys are both so impatient and stubborn yourselves, I remember you calling me, every single day until you got what you wanted. But when it came to her, you were patient and caring."

"Thank you"

"I'll be blunt. I personally wouldn't recommend any child confronting their attacker before the age of twelve…probably more like fourteen. I'd tell you it's a mistake. It's too much. In any other situation. I think that…Ava will obsess on this issue until she gets to resolve it. She will not quit…"

"If it isn't time, it isn't time. No matter how much she may want to, if you think it will hurt her too much too risk it…we'll tell her she has to wait. She will understand. She's a good kid. And…she may be stubborn, but House and I are probably even more stubborn."

"However," Nadia said, trying to complete her thought, "I think she _can_ handle it. I think you guys can help her. I think there will be some fallout, and it will be tough afterwards. But I think it might be worth it. House said you're talking to Saunders. The woman's amazing. But…if you had to ask me…I'd lean toward yes. You were willing to accept the consequences when you adopted her. You knew you loved her, and you knew how wonderful she could be, but you also understood that she came with a complicated history. If you accept the consequences of that meeting in the same way…she will do just fine."

* * *

_**-A few days before Jack was born-**_

_"That belly's big," Ava said, putting her hands on Cuddy's stomach and holding still to try to feel her brother move._

_"I know," Cuddy answered, smiling at the curious little girl. "It's huge!"_

_"That baby's bigger than me."_

_"Nah," Cuddy answered, "You're the big sister. He's actually only about this big."_

_Ava watched while Cuddy held out her hands to demonstrate the approximate size. The girl reached her hands out to mirror Cuddy's, and held it up to the large belly. "You're wrong. He's a lot bigger…taking up that much room."_

_"It's not all him…it's still some of me. He's in there all safe and sound…with padding so nothing hurts him."_

_"Padding?" Ava said with a very suspicious look._

_"Sort of like…" Cuddy thought while she looked up._

_"That box we got the other day…with baby stuff in it. All that bubble wrap," House offered._

_"Bubble wrap?" Ava asked._

_"Sort of like that," Cuddy continued, "He's tucked all safe in there, all wrapped up so stuff doesn't hurt him until he's big enough to come out and hang out with us."_

_"After he comes, how long do we keep him wrapped up?" Ava wrinkled her face._

_"We don't," Cuddy answered, "In fact, once he's born, wrapping him in bubble wrap would be bad…because he couldn't breathe. "_

_"You guys put him there, right?" Ava asked, looking over at House._

_"Yea…" House said cautiously while he thought about how he would answer any further questions. Cuddy was watching him, reminding him with a look that he was talking to a toddler, not a teenager._

_Ava walked up to House, her hands on her hips, and said, before he even had to answer, "Why you didn't get me from Mom's belly?"_

_"Because you grew in someone else's belly. We had to go find you after you were born," House answered._

_"Why?"_

_"Some kids…are kids you grow yourself…and some kids are kids that grow with someone else, but you can go find them if you want them for your family."_

_"You picked me?"_

_"We totally picked you," House said, leaning down, "But…I think you might have picked us too."_

_"I think I did," Ava said, folding her arms and looking around proudly._

_House nodded, "You're smart. You knew what you were looking for."_

_"You guys are pretty nice"_

_"Thank you. We try"_

_"Can I have that?" She asked, pointing at the jar where House hid candy._

_It was eleven AM._

_"No. We're not that nice. We are nice…but…we don't want to be too nice because then you'll just expect more…it's a vicious cycle."_

_"Please?"_

_"Not now. Later."_

_Ava seemed content that her day would include candy, even if she couldn't have it immediately. She walked back over to Cuddy, fascinated with trying to feel her brother kicking again. She was thoroughly intrigued by the brother she would soon have. Stepping to the side so she could try to get her tiny arms around Cuddy's body for an awkwardly stretched hug, she said, "I wish I woulda grown in there too. I think your belly's the nicest."_

_Cuddy smiled an irrepressibly wide smile, and chuckled down at her daughter. "I wish I could have had you with me all that time too. But…you are here now…and we're keeping you."_

_"I can keep you too."_

_Ava got down after her hug, and found her sippy cup, taking a long drink. She put her cup down, her eyes catching the candy jar. She was staring at it, clearly imagining the moment when she would be allowed to have some._

_Cuddy got up, walked over the jar, and held it down so Ava could pick. After Ava was happily eating her candy and kicking her feet in an impromptu dance, House whispered to Cuddy, "I can't believe you went for that."_

_She smirked up at him, "Oh please, it's one piece of candy. You cave for so much less."_

_"I totally do. The kid is right…your belly is definitely the nicest."_

* * *

After Nadia left, they began the long drive down to the Outer Banks. They stopped frequently so the children could stretch and to keep arguments to a minimum. On the long trip, they told their children a story they had already told them dozens of times. They told the story of how they fell in love all over again, decades after they had first met, in a beach house at the Outer Banks, and how once they found that love, they both refused to surrender it.


	32. The Perfect Evening

_A/N-thanks to all of you who continue to follow the story. Thanks also to all of you who took the time to review: IHeartHouseCuddy, Tori, JLCH, OldSFfan, TheHouseWitch, jaybe61, dmarchl21, jkarr, LapizSilkwood, devonfc, Little Greg, Abby, Boo's House, HuddyGirl, Alex, LoveMyHouse, BJAllen815, Suzieqlondon, Mon Fogel and Sarah.  
_

_This one starts with a flashback…mid-Season 5._

* * *

_**-PPTH-Late 2008-**_

_Cuddy was walking past House's office, going to see Wilson about an issue with the board, and saw House gathering his things to leave. She walked in, a look of certainty on her face._

"_Well done, House. Nice catch with that patient," she said as she walked in, arms folded loosely, only partially defensive._

"_Glad you're happy," he answered gruffly, appearing irritated by her presence immediately. Gathering his things to leave, wondering if she was there to check up on him, he was also defensive. "I heard about your lawsuit. I guess that's good news."_

"_You guess…it is good news?" Cuddy asked, with an air of shock._

"_Yea," he shrugged, "Isn't it?"_

"_Given that it was being brought against you…I would think you'd be pretty damn happy it was resolved."_

_House sighed and looked her over so quickly that she wasn't even sure if it happened. "I'm thrilled," he said unconvincingly. _

_She began walking out, and he followed her, both of them moving more slowly than normal. House huffed, "What did you tell them? That I'm crazy, but I'm also super smart…or was reminding them that I stopped their kid from dying enough to change their minds?"_

_She shook her head, obviously disappointed and frustrated with his lack of gratitude. "I did…what I do every time you do this. A lawyer, or team of lawyers, and I…bailed you out. Again."_

_He stopped walking for a moment, saying softly as he looked beyond her. "I…appreciate it."_

_She smiled a bit, uncertain. "You did good. Today. I'm not talking about the…other case."_

"_I did assume that you weren't thanking me for my work on the case where they sued me."_

_She almost smiled, and they continued walking down the hall toward Wilson's office, the tension practically a visible wall between them. _

"_Celebrating?" she asked._

"_The disappearing lawsuit…or the case I solved?"_

"_Why not both?"_

"_Why not. Of course I'm celebrating."_

"_You and Wilson going out?"_

"_Wilson's busy. And I'm tired…so make up something really good about a pair of hookers who think I'm so hot they want to throw me a freebie…just for the chance to have a go at me. And add a bottle…or vial…of something really good to the party for bonus points. Then…if your suggestion is good enough, maybe I'll take it."_

_She nodded with annoyed acceptance that, like always, things would seem like maybe they'd change, but within moments, they were always right back where they were before. _

"_What are you doing, anything fun?' House asked, in such a way that she couldn't tell if it was out of obligation or interest or in order to initiate a taunt. _

_She looked up, returning his quasi-deflection, "Make up something good. Something like a retreat…or spa…far away from here…and a massage from a gorgeous, tall, tanned, strapping, twenty-four year-old local from whatever amazing place I am visiting…who wants to make all of my worries…disappear."_

"_Our dreams aren't all that different, Cuddy," he smirked._

"_Except I'm not gonna have sex with my masseuse."_

"_Then you're missing out on half the fun."_

_They paused in front of Wilson's door. "You don't have a life…you can come along if you want. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you watched."_

"_No! No, but really, thanks," she answered with dry sarcasm._

_He stepped just a half-step closer. "Or…we could let them watch. Who knows, maybe teach them something."_

_His eyes were playful, just barely. He was saying something that he could easily write off as a joke or a sarcastic jab if it all went wrong, but still, he wanted to see her reaction. He was doing what he could do so well, put out the suggestion, fling a little thought out into the air under the guise of a joke, but not really crossing that line into admitting anything real._

_He thought she was going to laugh him off, leave, maybe even return some comment meant to take him down a few pegs, but she leaned her upper body forward just a hairsbreadth, and said with confident flirtation, "I'd hate to ruin their self-esteem. We both know I would."_

_She knew she had won the exchange that he was certain he was winning up until that point when his jaw went just a little slack, and she could hear see the flash of electricity run through his body. His eyes flared, and he was considering whether or not he should say anything in response. _

_He saw the look. She half grinned, "Sounds like you already had the perfect evening planned…with your hookers." _

_She was waiting for him to counter, and Wilson's door opened. "Oh, I was just coming for you, are we…talking about this?" Wilson asked._

"_That's why I'm here," Cuddy said to Wilson. When she turned, House was already a few steps away. Cuddy said, just loudly enough for him to hear, "Enjoy your perfect evening."_

_House tipped his head in a nod as he continued limping away._

* * *

The kids loved the home at the Outer Banks. It was an easy place to love. For House and Cuddy, it was a homecoming to yet another place that was significant in the multi-layered history they shared. The beach itself was nice, but they were accustomed to having a beach only moments away from their house. The fun part at the Outer Banks, was the home itself. The details sent their minds diving back through time. The hammock on the porch, the pool table, and the spot on the beach where they exchanged marriage vows were strange reminders of how long they had been together, and yet, how it wasn't really that long at all.

Cuddy reminded him of the morning, not long after they had met again at Kate's bar, when she found him swinging on the hammock with binoculars hidden under his shirt because he was watching her along the surf. She laughed at the absurdity of him, secretly peeking at her, and her mouth twitched up in a flirty smile when he whispered, "Are you kidding me? I'd do the same thing if you were out there right now."

He reminded her of the way he slapped her ass while she tried to shoot pool, and also reminded her smugly that she was the one who had actually kissed him first that day. She leaned up toward his ear, knowing that, after years together, her proximity to him could still drive him wild, and whispered, "If I remember correctly, I wanted to do more than kiss you. Actually, if we were alone right now, I'd want to do exactly the same thing today."

The kids ran in the room after completing their exploration of the space, and groaned their disgust at the sight of their parents, smiling and whispering at each other. "Do you always have to do that?" Ava griped.

"What?" House asked, still smiling at his wife.

"You guys should have gotten married a lot earlier…then you might actually be done making lovey eyes."

"We'd probably be worse," Cuddy said, teasing her daughter, "I think we get worse every year, not better. By the time you graduate from high school, we'll wear coordinating colors to the ceremony, and we'll probably forget to take pictures because we'll be too busy making lovey eyes."

Jack shook his head, "You guys took fifty pictures on my first day of school…I think you'll take a lot when we finish school."

Cuddy directed them over to the spot where she stood, pointing out the place where they got married, and the spot where they sat alone after the ceremony. It was the same spot where Kate took a picture of them sitting on the beach, framed by the ocean, the rising sun, and an open expanse of sand to give to them as a wedding present.

"Maybe I'll get married on the beach someday," Jack said as he looked down on the spot.

"Who would marry you?" Ava teased.

"Oh, I have lots of girlfriends," Jack said, puffing his tiny chest proudly.

"Like who?"

"Sara and Liliana…maybe one of them would marry me."

"Just because a girl talks to you doesn't mean she's your girlfriend."

"You're five, aren't you supposed to be screaming that girls have cooties?" House answered.

"Oh, no," Jack answered, "I'm a womanist."

* * *

They explored the outside for a short while, but they had definite plans for the evening. It was game night. Game night for the Cuddy-House family that night would not involve dice or game boards. They set up a small buffet of finger foods and served mocktails with twists of orange floating in brightly colored fruit juice and root beer in frosty bottles for the kids to drink.

Jack shuffled and dealt the cards, standing on his chair and precisely counting out cards for each player. There were poker chips to place bets. They played a few warm-up hands, helping the kids to refresh them on the rules. Each member of the family had strengths with poker. Ava was perceptive and observant, and seemed to have an understanding of probabilities, although at that age, she just thought she had a "knack" for card playing. Jack's lie and mood detector skills gave him his own advantage. House also was good at probabilities, and was a veritable database of tells and body language. Cuddy was good at sensing lies as well, in the same way she could feel House lying, but couldn't pick one specific tell, and she was also an excellent bluffer. Surrounded by players with skills of observation and understanding, playing poker as a family was a unique opportunity to practice being scrutinized while making decisions under pressure. With each turn, the undivided attention of all of the other players was directed at the one who was making a move.

They played a few rounds, and one became heated. Raises, calls and folds went around the table until it was just House and Cuddy. House watched, observed, looked for that one tell, but there was none. He was certain, Cuddy had a hand. He finally folded, cutting his losses, but he couldn't stop thinking about a brief second when Jack's eyes went to Cuddy's hands as they gathered the cards and handed them to House.

They played two more rounds, Jack won one, House took the next one, but as he gathered the cards, he said to Cuddy, offhandedly, "What did you have?"

"You didn't see? Two pair…fives and queens."

"No…not this round. That one when you took half of my chips. What did you have?"

"Don't remember," she answered with a purposefully devilish grin.

"Can we have more drinks?" Jack asked.

"The juice is on the counter, root beer's in the fridge on the bottom shelf," Cuddy said.

The two kids took off for the downstairs as House shouted for them to bring him a root beer and grab the bowl of pretzels.

"Oh, you remember," House said, leaning toward her. "You remember exactly what cards you had. So why won't you tell me."

"Strategy"

"What sort of…strategy?"

"Just strategy," she said as she kicked the foot at the end of one crossed leg.

He stared at her, hoping she'd cave, and she added, "I'm not telling you."

"Want to put a little wager on this game? A private one between me and you."

"Sure," Cuddy said, nodding, "Let me guess…if I win, then tonight after the kids are in bed, _you_ have to have sex with _me_. Alternatively, if you win, then tonight after the kids are in bed, _I_ have to have sex with _you_. A bold gamble. And here I thought that we didn't like to play cutthroat."

"What if neither of us wins?"

"A draw? Under those circumstances, I'm guessing you think we should just have sex with each other."

"I can't possibly play with stakes that high," he teased. "We could wager massages."

"Interestingly, for us, almost always a precursor to sex…"

"Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. My calves are killing me."

It was a taunt, she was confident. Too confident. He was certain she was up to _something._ They could hear the kids downstairs, gathering the drinks and getting closer to the bottom of the steps.

"You better hurry, if you want to bet before they get back." Cuddy said, still confident.

"You know…don't you!" He accused as a realization dawned on him.

The kids were pounding up the stairs.

"Only a few seconds left to name your stakes," she answered.

"Tomorrow night, date night, winner gets a massage and names the scenario for lovin'."

"Agreed," she answered just as the kids were coming back in the room.

It was Ava's turn to deal, she handed out the cards.

They went around the table twice, it was down to Jack and Ava. Jack ran around the table to House to ask a question about which hands were higher since House and Cuddy had already folded. In spite of everyone's competitive nature, they still allowed the kids to ask for clarifications on rules and the strengths of different hands. Jack sat down, proudly announcing, "I raise."

Just when Ava was considering her move, House interrupted, "Which one of you told your mother?"

Ava held up her hand, "Hang on, I'm thinking."

"One of you told her."

"Told her what?" Jack asked.

"You know exactly what," House answered. "Why? Why would you tell her?"

"I call," Ava said, trying to continue playing the hand.

Ava won, she was happy, but House was undeterred. "Who told your mother her tell?"

Both kids looked at the cards, avoiding him.

"Fine…at least tell me why," House requested.

"It was bet," Cuddy said. "I won, they told me. Now let's play."

"A bet?"

"Right before we left Barbados," Cuddy answered. "You went to see Kate. We played a few hands."

"Cuddy…that's wrong," House scoffed.

"Oh really? They told me that you offered them twenty…if they would tell you your tell."

"But they didn't take me up on it."

"We were holding out for more. We thought he really wanted to know," Ava answered.

House shook his head, "You were bluffing, a few hands ago…weren't you?"

Cuddy shrugged, "You wouldn't tell me if the situations were reversed."

"You're right I wouldn't tell you."

They shuffled out the cards and then he said, "You're all a pile of schemers. I know…because I am the head schemer. I am…the lord of the schemers. I don't like this whole 'pulling one over on the patriarch' trend we seem to have going on here."

House did win the game. The last hand, he had pocket tens, and there was a ten on the flop, and a ten on the turn card, a stroke of amazing luck, and he raked in his opponents' final chips.

The kids ran downstairs ahead of them to pick out a video game to play on the entertainment system. Cuddy and House were gathering the chips to return them to the rack and picking up the cards. "So, since I won the game…I pick the conditions for sex tomorrow. The first condition is, at the absolute pinnacle of ecstasy, instead of screaming my name, I want you to shout out my tell."

Cuddy scoffed out a brief giggle, "You think that…at the 'pinnacle of ecstasy,' I'm thinking about what I'm saying? As long as you are doing what you do so well…there's not a whole lot of thought there about anything except exactly what is going on at the moment…particularly not about tells."

"I'll remind you," he offered.

"I still don't know it. So I guess I'll scream that. And we both know…if I'm doing what I do so well…you won't be thinking about much else either."

"I can work it out. I know what I'm doing."

Elbow on the table and wrist bent, Cuddy leaned on her hand, smirking knowingly at him.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" House asked. "What do you know?"

She held out her free hand, awaiting a fist bump.

"What?" he asked again.

"You figured out your tell…didn't you?"

His face involuntarily allowed his joy to show, just a bit, in the form of a smug grin. "Maybe."

"You played those poor, unsuspecting children right out of their chips…because you knew your tell…and used that to your advantage."

"Knowing what other people _think_ your tell is…is so helpful. Jack wasn't even doing his super lie-detector thing because he didn't think he needed it. God, I'm brilliant!"

He finally bumped her waiting fist and then added, "Which is why you made up that little…lip twitch poker face tell…that you let the kids figure out…I'm not the only one playing those unsuspecting children."

She smiled.

"How'd you find out? About your tell," she asked.

"They said Frank did it too. I had a suspicion before we left home. At Mom's funeral, he was standing nearby…talking to the Marines. They asked who he was…he said he was my uncle. Suspicion…confirmed."

"Nice," she answered.

"All this plotting and brilliance…we have to be the hottest couple…ever."

"God, yes," she answered with a smirk.

"We still one upped them, at least when playing a game. They haven't entirely dethroned the parents yet."

"Except…now they're five and eight."

"You're suggesting we enjoy outsmarting them while it lasts?"

"Oh yea," she nodded certainly.

"It's gonna be fun…isn't it?"

She smiled, raising an eyebrow.

He saw the deviousness of her look and said, "I'm really glad we're on the same side."

She turned to continue their cleanup, and he tipped her chin with his finger back toward his face. His lips met hers slowly, lingering and slipping against them in a kiss that was deliciously sweet but brief. He stopped kissing her to speak against her lips, "Love you."

She answered with an affectionate smirk, "Love you." She leaned closer, her lips caressing his between hers. When she pulled back she noted, "It's been a great day. Visiting here again, hanging with the kids, our poker tourney…and…if we can get the kids to sleep at a decent hour…we can go to our room…lock the door…"

"The awe-inspiring end to the perfect evening."


	33. Sitting and Leaning

_A/N-Thanks to all who reviewed since the last piece: huddyholic, IHeartHouseCuddy, KiwiClare, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, Truth, jkarr, ammeboss, jaybe61, Josam, Suzieqlondon, Abby, housebound, Boo's House, HuddyGirl, Alex, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, Guest, BabalooBlue and Mon Fogel._

_OK…so the tells…I've actually had 3 different people tell me with absolute certainty that they know House's tell from watching the show…ALL of them were different. 2 people guessed Cuddy's, they were also different. Remember, I'm years off of Season 7 at this point…and this is just my take on it._

_This chapter includes some adult content._

* * *

Kate and Mel arrived the next morning to enjoy a couple of days down at the beach with their friends before returning to Barbados. Kate smiled at House, "You guys look better than when you left."

"Yea, we're having fun," he answered.

"Good"

"And…more importantly, I deciphered and confirmed my tell."

Kate laughed, "Like it's a big mystery."

Cuddy heard the conversation and approached. "You know what his is too?"

"God, yes," Kate shouted. "I figured it out right after he moved in with me. Back when he was all mopey and lovelorn."

"Fuck off," House answered evenly.

"It's true. He'd sit at our table or at the bar and revel in his grouchiness. It was endearing…I love to collect the damaged."

"You're gonna make me say it again? Fine. Fuck off."

"Now be quiet, or I'll hug you," Kate teased, then turned back to Cuddy. "I noticed when I was trying to hook him up with new people that he'd say stuff about someone like him being incapable of love, or that there is no such thing, or that he just didn't want anyone. And he'd always do the same thing. He also did it when he'd finish off something I wanted from the fridge and he'd lie about it, or the time he sabotaged my date with this amazing artist from DC who I met at the bar, and tried to claim it was all an accident."

"I saved you…trust me. That girl was going to go crazy on you…I can tell," House interjected.

"Whatever. Regardless of the motivations behind the lie, your tell is still the same," Kate answered, turning to Cuddy and making the subtlest of twitches on her face and then pointing, "Did you see it?"

"See what?" Cuddy asked, "Muscle twitch…potassium deficiency? Eat a potato."

"That's the tell," Kate said.

Cuddy leaned closer to Kate, "Do it again."

Kate put on an irritated, grumbly, House-like face, and did it again while Cuddy studied her. It was one of the most subtle movements of facial muscles that Cuddy had ever seen. The slightest twitch, _almost_ a squint of one eye, the smallest break in otherwise unresponsive behavior encompassed his entire tell.

"That's it?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea, and I think it's his attempt to look sincere or certain. Which is funny, because that's what you do to. Not the same tell, but the attempt to look really, really honest."

Kate stepped back, did her exaggerated imitation of Cuddy's most defiant stance and slightly shook her head, widened her eyes and lifted her face, almost confrontationally.

"It's subtle," House said, "the differences between actually honest Cuddy and attempting to look honest Cuddy."

"It is. It's in the attitude, the trajectory of the chin, and too much focused eye contact. And the presence of really small, superfluous hand gestures. You're a whole body teller," Kate explained.

"Some kind of friend you are, how did you know?" House asked Kate.

"What?" Kate asked with surprise.

"You could have clued me in."

"Boring! You and I were together nearly every non-hospital moment for years. Then even after you guys hooked up, you were still with me for a while. Like my own horny little lab rats."

"Weird that I didn't notice," Cuddy answered.

"Maybe it's different from earlier years…but now…he doesn't lie to you often enough for you to notice. When he first showed up at Penn, every single, 'I'm fine' or 'I'm incapable of love,' comment was a lie. He lied…constantly. Plus, there is sort of a couple tell."

"A couple tell?" House sneered with disbelief.

"Yes. When one of you is lying to someone else, you avoid looking at each other."

"No we don't," Cuddy answered.

"You do. It makes it really obvious. It's your couple tell. I guess, subconsciously, neither of you likes to see lies from each other. Weird, right?" Kate asked.

House and Cuddy were both staring with slightly disgruntled expressions.

"You…unwittingly out the other for lying. Don't worry, I think I'm the only one who notices that…but I'm willing to guess your kids will pick up on it soon." Kate watched their confused and displeased faces and offered, "I'll put smiles, or at least knowing little smirks, back on your faces. We're taking your children to see a movie after we go find lunch. So…the movie ends at six-forty-five. You have the afternoon until then all to yourselves. Enjoy it, with travel and going back to work, and everything else that's going on, you probably won't get much time to yourselves after today."

Cuddy walked downstairs, helped to get the kids in the car, and went back up to find House, who was missing from the main living area. She continued up to the third floor, where she found House testing pool cues on the table for their trueness. He found two that he liked, and set them aside.

"You know, I expected to come up and find some elaborate setup…since you were so excited to select the _scenario for lovin'_…isn't that what you called it?" she asked.

"Yup. It is. I want to shoot pool. We really need one of these at home."

Cuddy knew of the fantasies they had built around their own earlier experiences. She knew that his plan had nothing to do with actually playing a game, and everything to do with their history and recapturing lost moments.

"Gonna mope when I win?" Cuddy asked, raising an eyebrow.

House scoffed. "Dream on."

"I've won before. More games than I've lost to you, if I remember correctly."

"That was before I knew you knew how to play."

Cuddy's face wore her disbelief, "That was the truth…six years ago. Since we visited here the first time you've known. So how do you count for the deluge of losses after the first loss?"

"PTSD"

"What is the trauma that you are experiencing stress from?"

"The pain from your treachery…tricking me into thinking you didn't know. You wanna break?" he asked as he finished racking.

"Treachery? Seriously? And I think I won the last game, so I'll let you break."

"You remember who won the last game?" he asked as he walked to the end of the table. "So competitive."

"I remember. Go ahead and break. Maybe it will help you."

House broke and got one in immediately. "High ball," he announced as he walked around to find his next shot.

Cuddy smiled at him as she walked past him after he missed, circling the table slowly to find her shot. Cuddy bent once she found the shot, casually saying, "Two, corner," as she pointed with the end of her cue to the proper pocket, and took and made the shot. "Four, side," she said before she lined up the next one.

"This is why you win, you strut your stuff, parading around, sticking your ass out…all a game to distract me."

"I have yet to figure out how to take a shot without bending…"

"It's the way you bend. You know how to tempt me."

"Is that so?" she asked, pausing before she took her shot. She put her cue on the rack, patted his chest and took his cue to the rack as well. She stood in front of him, "Fair is fair. And you're right, I should level the playing field."

"Gonna wear a snowsuit?"

She chuckled, "No way. I'm not covering this up for you." She started pulling up his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she tried to pull his shirt off and he removed her hands. "I'm not playing shirtless."

"I'm being fair. Leveling the playing field. You can use your sexy manliness to your advantage."

He huffed, "Please. It's not even remotely the same thing."

"Strange as this may be to you, I am far more distracted by your body than I am by my own," Cuddy grabbed her cue, returned to the table, and took her next shot. She also made the next two shots as House watched. "Don't say I didn't try to play fair," she said after she missed the next shot and gestured for him to take his place at the table.

He didn't move, instead staring at the table from where he stood. "Your ass would still look good in a snowsuit."

The competitiveness left her voice as she said, "You know, I still remember exactly how you looked when we came here. I remember you, trying to look like you weren't looking at me. And I remember seeing you laugh…and wanting to kiss you so badly that it felt like there wasn't any other option."

House walked over to the table, playing and making two shots, while Cuddy stood, silently waiting. When he missed the next, he walked up to her, "I remember the way you looked. I remember the way you kissed me. I remember…everything about that day. And not having sex with you that day was one of the hardest things I have ever done."

"I would have. Your loss."

"True. I completely missed out on having sex that day. You were finally standing in front of me, after I spent years wondering if I would ever even see you again. Then I get to see you, I get to apologize and things seem good. Then you tell me what happened to Rachel, and I realize you're broken and hurt. And yea, I could have definitely gotten off that day. It was where I wanted to be. I wanted to be with you. We would have had crazy good depressed desperation sex. But I still think that you would have felt taken advantage of, and eventually decided I was a jerk who used your grief as a way to get under your skirt. It wasn't the first time that one of us walked away from the other to avoid making a mistake."

"_I_ was trying to seduce _you_. I knew what I was doing."

"I didn't want to fuck things up. I didn't want a week or two of sex, if I was lucky, only to lose you more than I had lost you before."

"I wouldn't have thought you were using my grief to sleep with me."

"We saw each other very differently then. It's easy to forget. Back then, you still saw me more as the guy who used to work for you and make you insane. The guy who assaulted you. Now, you see me as the ball and chain. The man who plays daddy to your kids. The studly guy who keeps you screaming for more. The person you trust when everything's going wrong."

Cuddy made a shot then stood, cue in hand, and stared at him, "It is so strange…to imagine being…guarded around you. To remember the way you used to be completely guarded and locked down around me. Nasty deflections and accusations were the norm. Each of us wondering if we could trust the other. Sounds…exhausting."

"Exactly. So," he said, walking over to her, "As much as I would have liked to have had sex with you that day…who knows…if we would have, we might have sacrificed all that we have now. Everything could have gone all wrong that day, and I would have gone back to Philly and you would have gone back to Baltimore, and we both would have continued our shitty, lonely, little lives. Think of everything that has happened since that decision."

"Lots of good stuff," she answered, her free hand finding his side. "Pioneers in our fields, lives saved, happy and brilliant children, pretty damn good relationship."

House nodded, "And instead of a few days of amazing sex…we've had years together."

"Think of all of the times I've touched you," she said, stepping closer. "How many times I've kissed you," she said before she kissed him. "All of the times we've leaned on each other and laughed together…slept next to each other."

"Makes skipping out on one lay seem remarkably worth it," he answered disconnectedly while his hands moved up her ribs. Her lips met his again as she pushed him back toward the table.

"It does, doesn't it? Almost makes me think you might actually like me."

"I'd never let you see that," he teased.

"It's almost like we should reward ourselves for our patience," she said as she reached a bare toe behind him to kick off his shoe, repeating the steps on the other foot.

"Almost," he answered while she slipped her hands under his shirt.

His hands slid underneath the waist of her shorts, palming as much of the flesh of her ass that he could, jerking her suddenly forward with great urgency. He was lifting her against him, the feeling of their bodies responding to each other, increasing their anticipation.

"I will never stop wanting you. No matter what happens, no matter how many times we do this. One week, two weeks, ten years…it'll never be enough," he said.

She wiggled away from him, pulling him toward a nearby recliner, moving clothes out of the way or removing them, and pushing him down into it. She knelt on the floor in front of the chair, her fingers trailing along his lower stomach, feeling the ridges of his hips. Her lips were so close to him that he could feel her breath along his most sensitive spots, he could see her hands, which were flat against his body, moving closer. Her hand would progressively move tantalizingly closer to finally touching him, only to swoop painfully away again. When her tongue flicked out to touch him, to actually make contact with his skin, he groaned at this slight slip of warm wetness against him. She repeated the gesture, allowing her tongue to meet him again for just a moment longer. When her lips met him, when she let her mouth work her way along him, he thought he'd never found a moment more awaited.

She was every bit as adept at building a moment and teasing as he was, and watching her never ceased to be exciting to him. He thought about stopping her, about moving his attention to her needs and other activities, but when he tried to sit up, she pressed her hand against his chest until he sat back. His hands found the back of her head, just to feel the progress of her body's movement against his. As he got closer, he grabbed the ends of the arms of the recliner, his hands grasping at the upholstery and padding beneath his fingers until he was white-knuckled and groaning with pleasure. She continued on with subtler attention that carefully straddled the delicate edges between pleasure and far too much pleasure.

Her persistence kept him partially aroused, just as she had hoped it would. He pushed her back onto the coffee table in front of the chair. From there he leaned forward, lavishing attention on her neck, breasts and stomach while his fingers pressed just centimeters away from her sex. She was so aroused that she could feel her body moving toward him, the pressure on the surrounding area providing a shadow of relief, the slightest pull from the places on her body where she wanted him the most. The partial attention was almost more infuriating than receiving no attention at all. Usually a few sighs and pleas were all that it took to get him to at least begin to touch her, to offer the promise of satisfaction on the horizon. He watched her body move, monitoring her increasingly needy squirms and pulsing muscles and emerging wetness all pleading for his further consideration.

He remembered in that moment, as he so often did, the lengths and depths of his wanting of her. He remembered how badly it hurt to be denied the pleasure of her, and how wonderful it felt to have her again when he confessed to her years earlier that he never thought he'd have the privilege of touching her again. The combination of silent and audible requests stimulated his body and mind so powerfully that he could feel his own need for her growing again. He allowed his tongue to barely part her folds, to scarcely graze her, and her back arched as her hands beckoned him forward. He lapped at her softly, intentionally providing so much less than what she wanted. When he realized that he'd be able to have her again, he momentarily appreciated the abilities of his own body. One that he'd so often cursed would occasionally make him proud.

His mind, his ever active, chronically fantasizing mind, allowed him to process, and reprocess everything about her. He'd skim through memories, wants and desires, while listening to her words and observing her body's response. Sex with her was both whole body and out of body. She sat up abruptly, both excited and irritated by the way he was only barely meeting her needs. Seeing his degree of arousal, she looked at him approvingly and led him the few steps back to the pool table.

She leaned against the table, pulling him closer, "I wanted you so badly that day, so badly. It still hurts to have you missing from me."

His hands found the backs of her thighs and he held them tightly when she hopped up, bracing her weight on her arms and hands on the table. Her core was there, presented before him and their bodies met again. He pushed himself deeply inside her, his hands locking their grip on her, knowing that in this position, his leg wouldn't allow him to go on long. She was so ready for him that his furious pounding led to a shattering orgasm after only a few thrusts. The combination of his body rubbing in her, stretching and filling every place where he had been missing, the rhythmic sensation of him pressing against the outside of her body, and the need that was already built, produced an intensely luxurious climax. He didn't slow down for her, his body tired and his own end eminent, he held her tightly as he continued the meeting of their bodies while his ears were filled by her pleasured responses, and he swore he could feel the sensation of being inside her through every last molecule of his body.

She slid down off of the table, her arms weak from holding her weight and her body uncertain and slow to recover. They grabbed their clothes, lazily helping each other dress as lips found skin before it was covered up in a way reserved by most couples for the removal of clothes, their appreciation for each other as thorough in their recovery as it was in their initiation. House wedged himself along the edge of the sofa, holding out an arm so Cuddy could join him, and within a minute of sitting down, he was snoring his exhaustion.

He woke after a brief nap, finding her still next to him. "Looks like you forfeited…does that mean I won?" he asked as he addressed the issue of their unfinished game.

"Didn't we address this earlier? Sometimes, it's worth forfeiting one particular round in order to play the long game?"

House answered, "Yea, it worked out for us in other ways. So…does that mean I won the game of pool?"

Cuddy chuckled, "Sorry, I thought were speaking in metaphorical terms about life. If you mean the game, hell no. Take your turn."

"That's my Cuddy."

* * *

They finished their game, Cuddy continuing her dominance at pool, and went to the main floor to watch TV and wait for their family and friends to return from the movie. They sat in a chair, one that they had sat in together years earlier after their first big fight after they were reunited. They both remembered that fight. They remembered their anger and pain, and the eruption of feelings stemming from the hurt they had caused each other.

House's words to her that night years ago hung in the air:

_"You know what? Even why I try to do the right thing, I fuck it up…I'm done. I warned you this would be bad. This is me, telling you, I told you so. Fuck this, Cuddy. I'm done trying."_

But then he wasn't done trying. They remembered the way he began to leave, and then the way he didn't. They remembered the way she sat in one corner of the chair, the long repressed pain of losing her daughter boiling over, and the way he sat down next to her and her body leaned into him.

At the time when they met again, there was so much pain and loneliness. Cuddy's being was tortured by the loss of her child. Both were lonely and broken, and carried their own mutual angers and hurts from years existing in and around a painfully dysfunctional relationship.

It was a time when neither was comfortable expressing affection in words or in actions, but they did what they could. After his words, "I'm done trying," he found he couldn't leave. He heard her sorrow, a moment that reminded him of her complete humanity. It reminded him of the feelings he had for the person in pain. He returned to her side, and sat in the chair. She leaned against him. They survived the night in the chair together. Her decision to find him again, his decision to stay, changed their lives, each stubbornly refusing to allow something to slip into the night unacknowledged. From that place of unspeakable pain and loneliness, emerged their new lives.

After their game of pool, years after the earlier difficult decisions, the couple still sat in that chair, neither having spoken of its significance, but both realizing it. They were clicking through channels on the TV without watching. An hour later their children would return. The children were the direct products of their decisions: His to sit and hers to lean; hers to bravely seek him out and his to steadfastly remain by her side.

Ava's life was renewed, in some ways rebirthed, by these decisions. A child who may have been lost, alone and misunderstood, found a home, family, support and understanding. Cameron's suggestion that Jack was a being she thought would never exist seemed strange to the child, but in so many ways was a sentiment held by many people. The possibility of his existence for much of his parents' lifetimes was improbable at best. Cuddy's earlier infertility and House's former lifestyle, coupled with the earlier failure of their attempt at a relationship, made a child literally born of the two of them seem almost mythical.

So many things came from these early decisions, lives were built, formed and changed because of decisions made by those two people. Seek. Remain. Sit. Lean.


	34. Choices

_A/N-Thank you to everyone who is reading, and to all who have reviewed: olivia, KiwiClare, OldSFfan, TheHouseWitch, Josam, Boo's House, JLCH, BabalooBlue, ikissedtheLaurie, ammeboss, IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, jaybe61, Suzieqlondon, Abby, CaptainK8, HuddyGirl, Alex, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, SupaDupaAlex, Mon Fogel and BJAllen815._

_I think this story has about 3-5 chapters left, depending on how much I elaborate some sections._

* * *

The next morning, after everyone was awake and ready for the day, Mel and Jack went for a walk so that everyone else could talk to Ava about her requested meeting with Brian Yost.

"I talked to Saunders the other night before we came down," Kate said to Ava, "she was obviously a little concerned. Her initial reaction was a pretty definitive 'no' with little room for discussion."

"She always does that," Ava complained, "she wants me to stay worried so she can charge us money for sessions until I'm fifty."

"She doesn't charge us by the session," Cuddy answered. "She works with all of the kids who need her at our facilities and she gets a salary. So whether she's talking to you, or answering emails, she makes the same money. I think she's just concerned."

Kate continued, "She called me back about an hour later. She said she was reviewing your file, thinking about your dreams, and wondering if it might be good for you to see him. She called the prison, spoke to the head of psych up there. I can't get into details about the guy, but what I can tell you is that he certainly isn't a cuddly teddy bear, but he also isn't a sociopath. It seems he wasn't much of a violent man unless there were drugs involved. Saunders…gave you the green light."

"No way," Ava answered with surprise. "When do I go?"

"I'll let your parents take over on that one. You should probably cut Saunders a break though, she's willing to work with the prison psych to set it up, and she is also willing to fly up here to sit in on the meeting, if you guys want her here. If not, she still recommends sessions all week when you return, just to make sure you are processing everything that happened. She said there is a fine line between this helping you, and this hurting you…and she suspects, in the end, it will probably do a little of both, but she thinks that overall, in the long term, it will probably be good."

"I just want to go in with Mom. And cops."

"He'll probably be behind glass," Kate confirmed. "There will be officers there who can pull him away if he gets out of hand. What you have to understand is that, whoever is there with you, your mom, or Saunders or whoever, if they think that the situation is getting out of control, you have to listen to them."

"We called this morning," House said, "if you still want it, the meeting is yours the day before we go home."

"Thank you," Ava said, hugging her parents and Kate with obvious appreciation. "I need this."

"Your mom and I agreed that there are a few conditions," House told her. "It's for your safety. Like Kate said, if you go in, you listen to everything your mom says. No arguments, no smartass comebacks. She's in charge. There are cops there, and other people, but you have to trust your mom. You picked her, so now you have to trust her. And, I know you hate it, but you have to go to your counseling appointments every day that week. If you can agree to those two things, the rest of the decision is up to you."

Ava nodded, "I agree. I want to do this."

* * *

_**-8 months before the present-**_

_House entered Cuddy's office. It was near the end of the day, and she was finishing up the class she was teaching. He sat behind her desk and his eye was caught by the persistent blinking of an orange error light on the printer. The light kept blinking, pleading for attention in an irritatingly constant way, so he fixed it. He leaned over the desk, popping the door off of the back to access the inside, and removing a wrinkled sheet that had jammed the entire job. He put it back together, and the printer whirred again before spitting finished papers out into the tray. The wrinkled piece was flat on the desk, about half of the sheet printed correctly, before the paper became wrinkled, smudged and torn, but he could easily see that the printout was a reservation. It was a package that included a dinner for two and a midday getaway at a very romantic hotel for the coming Friday. He distinctly remembered Cuddy saying that she would be unavailable Friday because of a meeting._

_The printer was continuing on, he wasn't sure exactly what else she was printing, but a quick look through it seemed innocuous enough. He felt a burning lump in his throat, combined with a tense feeling of confusion. Almost frighteningly on cue came Parker, the student who always seemed so desperate for House's attention when she first arrived. _

"_I was looking for Dr. Cuddy," Parker said._

"_Teaching," he answered as he continued to be lost in his own mind._

_The printer squealed and then halted again. Parker walked over. "Printer's jammed."_

"_I noticed."_

_She leaned down over the desk, far lower than she needed to in order to check the printer. "I can fix it," she offered in a sweetly feminine voice._

_House watched her momentarily, studying objectively. It occurred to him that he should have been very attracted to the woman in front of him. It wasn't that she was unattractive, quite the opposite. Her need for affirmation certainly wasn't attractive though, and he realized that if he felt like it, he could probably have sex with the woman if he made the slightest approving gesture. He also couldn't deny the fact that he simply didn't want to. Other women were wonderful to look at, but looking and touching were entirely different things._

_The thought was silly, romantic, but he knew that in many ways he had compared most other women to Cuddy. He also realized that it had been years since he'd touched another woman, kissed another woman, and he actually liked that. Somewhere in his brain, a voice that was usually dormant in his new life screamed at him that he should be jealous, he should panic, he should take advantage of the fact that a clearly interested, although needy, woman was in front of him, practically throwing herself at him. That same voice that seemed to rattle in his head for years, suddenly sounded very out of place._

"_Dr. House?" Parker asked. _

_He looked at her, waiting._

"_Your wife's a lucky woman," she said, as she slammed the printer door shut and it began printing again. "I've always been attracted to older men…brilliant men."_

_She walked around toward the back, reaching past him to the printer to grab the papers, her body directly in front of his face, when Cuddy walked into her office. House waited, expecting Cuddy to be furiously angry or jealous, but what he found, surprised him._

_Parker apologized too much, as if she was trying to make it appear as if something more was going on. Cuddy smiled stiffly, "It's fine, Parker, were you looking for me?"_

"_I'm sorry, I know it must look bad…" Parker offered.  
_

"_It doesn't," Cuddy said. "Were you in here for something else, or just to hang out with House?"_

_Cuddy was calm, unflappable, she truly didn't seem at all concerned._

"_No, of course not," Parker said, "I wanted to talk to you about applying for the next opening on Dr. House's team."_

"_I'm not the one to ask," Cuddy shrugged. "The person to ask about being on House's team would be…House."_

_Parker looked at him, a bit flirtatiously. _

"_Sorry, Parker. Position's been filled," House said, still looking at the wrinkled paper in front of him. _

_She stood there, almost as if begging with her eyes could convince him. He answered, with irritation, "Is there something else?"_

"_No," she answered, leaving the room._

_After she was gone, Cuddy said, "That woman really, really wants to sit on Uncle Greg's lap."_

_Cuddy was laughing, joking, acting casually. Then he realized, maybe the reservations were for the two of them, perhaps a surprise she was setting up._

"_Are you OK?" Cuddy asked, concerned. "You seem…really unhappy, do we need to get rid of her?"_

"_Want to sneak off for a lunch-n-love sort of thing on Friday?"_

"_Friday? Umm...meeting…someone wants to sell us next generation robotic surgical equipment. It tends to be easier to ship those patients out, but if we can get a specialist in and a good price, I thought we should consider it."_

"_You didn't ask me to come? I thought we made these decisions together."_

_She did a double take, "You are asking to attend a meeting?"_

"_It's a big decision."_

"_I know…and I was going to do what I always do, attend the meeting, bring home the stuff and let you read it, and we'd decide together. I like to go to meetings, do the whole networking and Q&A thing…you hate going. We both win. We've been doing this for…years. Why do you suddenly want to change it?"_

"_I'll go this time."_

"_OK," she shrugged. "You have to let the guy talk, this is the only face-to-face I get."_

"_Your printer keeps getting stuck."_

"_Again? I have to get a new one."_

_He was going to continue questioning her, hinting that he knew what was printed, but the sensible part of his mind was stomping down the panicky voice that was trying to tell him that things were going wrong. "I…know you."_

_Cuddy smiled with hesitant suspicion over her papers, "Agreed."_

_He stood, slowly approaching her. "I respect you too."_

"_I…agree with that too," she laughed, "What in the hell's going on?"_

"_I also trust you."_

"_OK…you're scaring me now."_

"_Nothing to worry about," House said, smiling, nodding, and leaving the room. _

_He wanted to hunt down the truth like a tireless bloodhound, not to catch her, but to vindicate her, to prove what he already knew. When she walked into the room, completely trusting him alone with Parker, he knew what he had to do. His mind still wondered, still revisited the puzzle, but he did nothing about it. _

_Almost an hour later, Cuddy entered his office, a wrinkled piece of paper in her hand. She rounded the back of his desk, leaning against it in front of him. "You saw these reservations."_

_He nodded, "I told you, I trust you."_

"_You could have asked."_

"_If I ask, that means I don't trust you."_

"_It depends on how you ask. I can guarantee that if you come up to me, screaming, 'You cheating whore,' I will be extremely pissed…I will also suggest that it means you don't trust me. But…'Hey, Cuddy, what's up with this reservation?' wouldn't piss me off."_

"_You…earned my trust. You deserve that from me."_

"_I believe that…but if you would have asked, I could have said, 'these reservations are for Mel. She's surprising Kate. I made the reservation on our card so Kate wouldn't see it.' That's what I would have said, had you asked."_

"_When you saw Parker and me in your office, you never even flinched."_

"_The truth is that if either of us wanted to leave…we could. I stay with you because I want to. And I want you to stay with me because you want to. I am way too interested in our mutual and individual happiness to trap you. And you have no interest in trapping me. That's why you and I are good…because we want to be together. We want to make the other one feel better when they're sad, we want to be strong for each other, we want each other…lust after each other. We repeatedly choose each other, every day."_

_He nodded, "For the record…you can accuse me of being a dirty whore…I'm OK with that."_

_She stifled her giggle, "I'll remember that. Your gesture…it wasn't lost on me. It must have been hard, not because you don't trust me, but because you like answers."_

"_I do like answers. We should write a book…about successful relationships," he joked._

"_Chapter one," Cuddy said, "engage in a reckless one night stand."_

"_Chapter two," House added, "harbor feelings for the co-participant in said amazing one night stand."_

"_Chapters three through fifty-eight will focus on how to keep the object of your affection near-"_

"_Not too near!" House eagerly interrupted._

"_Exactly"_

"_Can we skip chapters fifty-nine through seventy?"_

"_Those chapters are pretty shitty."_

"_Really shitty. We'll sum up those chapters," he suggested.  
_

"_But damn…the rest of the book…makes it seem really worthwhile."_

"_Especially the four-hundred chapter second volume on our sexual escapades"_

"_How about we keep that book to ourselves?"_

"_And deprive the world of the depths of our knowledge? That's like…Vesalius doing all of that cadaver hacking, and never publishing his findings. Where would anatomy be today?"_

"_Thank you for comparing the act of making love with me to 'cadaver hacking.'"_

"_Woman," he gloated proudly, "it's all part of why you choose me…every day."_

* * *

House and Cuddy woke in the early hours, just before the sunrise on their last day at the beach. It had been a pleasant trip, filled with many memories. The Outer Banks was the first geographical location in their mutual history where the happy memories far outweighed the unhappy ones. They set an alarm, got up, went to the balcony, and watched the sun come up just as it had the morning they got married. They really didn't say much to each other, because very little needed to be said. After the sun was up, they drank coffee on the patio as they watched the sky change and become brighter. The cool of the morning was soon forgotten as the heat of the summer sun began surrounding them. They chatted about nothing in particular, not small talk, just thoughts as they came into their heads, unfiltered. It was easy to forget that there was a time when unfiltered conversation was not only dangerous, but virtually impossible.

The kids soon stumbled out onto the porch, chattering on their own as they swung on the hammock.

"We better start getting our stuff together," Cuddy said into the air. "Back to Philly, and soon, back home."

He nodded, not quite ready to leave that place. Both of them had feelings of dread for Ava's visit with her attacker, but also felt ready to face the moment, tired of worrying for the outcome since the meeting had already been decided upon. House and Cuddy agreed, once the meeting was over, they'd take their little family back home, and try to help their daughter cope with whatever came from her visit. Unknowns seemed more frightening than facing known consequences.

House stood up and leaned over the raining, waiting for Cuddy to join him. He nodded toward the beach and asked a very simple question that they asked each other often. "Still?"

She smiled out at the waves, and then looked at him, "Definitely. You?"

"Every day"

She leaned toward him as they shared a brief and subtle moment, but when she turned, she didn't find the rolling and griping from her children that she had expected. "Why do you say that?" Jack asked.

"What?" Cuddy asked.

"Why does Dad always ask you the same question? What does that mean, _still_?"

"Asking her if she still wants to stay with me. If her desire to be near me still exceeds her desire to leave," House asked. "She asked me if I feel the same."

"You guys are married," Ava said, "you can't just leave."

"Sure we could," Cuddy said. "People do all of the time."

"I'm a complete moron if I don't realize that every single day that your mom stays here, I'm very lucky. And at any time…she could go. People make huge mistakes when they just assume that someone has to stay with them. I don't want her to stay because she has to…I want her to stay because…she wants to," House answered.

"The same goes for your dad. We aren't here because we're married, we're married because we want to be here. It doesn't mean all days are great. It just means all days are worth it."

"I'd be a complete idiot to leave," House added.

"So would I," Cuddy smirked, grabbed his hand, and said, "And now…appreciate the irony that I have to leave…but I'm just showering, it's nothing permanent."

House smiled back, and had the threat of a smile on his lips long after she left.

Jack walked over to him, "Do you worry that she'll leave us?"

House hesitated and sat down while he thought. He didn't like to discuss real things with his children unless he was going to be completely honest. There were games and jokes and places for deception, but with serious questions, medicine, life or love, he always tried to be as honest as he could.

"I used to," House answered. "I used to imagine the end all of the time."

"She can't just…leave," Ava responded, an obvious answer to her.

"Sure she could," House answered calmly. "It's just a matter of walking out the door. Buying a plane ticket or getting in the car. Actually _leaving_ is really quite simple."

When the children didn't answer he turned and saw looks of panicked horror on their faces. "Wait, wait," he said, changing the conversation, "That probably came out wrong. I mean…it didn't…but in regards to your mom it did."

They continued to stare, and Ava and Jack looked as if they were about to cry or scream against whatever was causing them such shock. "Get your butts over here," House said, patting the chair near him.

He sat facing them, his forearms braced on his knees so he was at their eye level. "I know that look. It's how I used to feel. Stop, she's not going anywhere, and neither am I. It's the difference between can't, and won't. Your mom could physically leave. She could get her money, take the keys, walk down the stairs, get in the car and go. I'm saying that, it isn't _impossible_ for her to leave. She chooses not to do those things. She doesn't want to do those things. So it isn't that she _can't_ leave, it is that she _won't_ leave. She loves you guys, she hates missing out on anything when it comes to you guys, because you are a part of her. Plus, for some reason I will never understand…she's fond of me."

"She does like you," Jack said, nodding certainly.

"Look at Frank. The way he ran off after I was born. Whether that was the right decision or the wrong decision, it was his decision. Your mom and I are here…we stay because we're completely crazy about each other, and about you guys. You are really two of our favorite people. So you never have to worry. I just try to acknowledge the fact that your mom stays because she wants to. It's a compliment. A choice. A sign of how much we mean to her, that's all. I didn't mean to…freak you out."

"So if you trust Mom so much, and you know her so well, why'd you ever worry that she'd leave?" Ava asked.

"When you find what you really want, the thought of losing it hurts. It hurts all of the time because of the _potential_ of losing it. Until you learn to trust that what you want…has chosen you too."


	35. Places of Belonging

_A/N—Thanks to all who've reviewed this last bit: KiwiClare, JLCH, amme boss, Boo's House, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, CC, OldSFfan, Winnie, Suzieqlondon, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, jaybe61, Josam, LoveMyHouse, dmarchl21, Mon Fogel, and BJAllen815.  
_

_OK…two flashbacks in here. I hope it works. Matthew appeared in Too Lost, he was Cuddy's boyfriend, briefly, before Rachel died, while they lived in Baltimore._

_Some tough subject matter here. All attempts were made to be tasteful. Kids really are much smarter than people give them credit for. They see more than people think they see. _

* * *

_**-Six months before Rachel's death-Baltimore-**_

_Matthew walked Cuddy up to her door and leaned closer for a kiss. She darted forward, quickly meeting his cheek with her tightly pursed lips as she said goodnight._

_"What on earth, Lisa? Can I at least come in?" he asked._

_"No. It's Rachel…you know how I feel about that."_

_"Rachel's not home. Why do we always do this?"_

_"It's her home too…and I feel weird just bringing some guy in. It's part of what you'll have to accept because you're dating someone with a child."_

_"I'm not just some guy!" Matthew protested loudly. "Rachel knows me, and she isn't even home. It's not like I'm prancing around unclothed in front of her."_

_"Sorry," she said matter-of-factly._

_"Are you ever going to answer me?" he asked, patting a pocket that contained a box with an engagement ring._

_Cuddy crossed her arms in front of her, shrugging her shoulders high along her neck. "Matthew…"_

_"Yea," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You've been hurt, and I will spend the rest of my life earning your trust. I'm not crazy. You will never have to run from me. I'm…kind…and you know that I'll be the guy you can always count on…stable. I'm a great choice for you…and for Rachel. And you know that."_

_"Oh, god," she said as she felt a wave of unhappy nostalgia. She remembered believing that Lucas was a good choice. A safe choice. The best choice for her and Rachel. She also remembered watching her world morph into something entirely unrecognizable not long after that._

_"Matthew," she said, putting her hand on his chest to stall him and stepping to the side to give herself space. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I really am."_

_"Fine. Alright. Let's go to my place then," he offered, frustrated, but turning to walk back to the car._

_"No," she shook her head, "I really am sorry. I can't marry you. I can't even…see you anymore."_

_"What?" he asked, floored. "Why not?"_

_"Because it would be completely dishonest. I don't love you. I won't make you happy because I will never be happy with you. We'll both end up miserable and alone. Married…but alone. You are sweet, and you truly deserve a woman who can be as…present…and as affectionate…as you are with her."_

_"It's OK, sweetie, you're just a little apprehensive," he said calmly, rubbing her arm as if to pacify her._

_She found the gesture patronizing and removed his hand. "No, I'm not. I can't do this. I can't lie to myself…and to you. You deserve something more. And…so do I. I…deserve it. I've made this mistake before."_

_"There's someone else, isn't there?" he asked sheepishly._

_"No," she answered honestly, "there is no one else. It's just me and Rachel. And I think that's how it should stay."_

_"If there isn't someone else already, are you hoping to find someone else? You don't always make great decisions when it comes to men."_

_"Clearly," she said, irritated at his audacity._

_"I'm just saying that, if you're holding onto the hope of going back to an unhealthy relationship…"_

_"I am not. Believe me. I have…zero desire for a relationship of any kind," she answered assertively._

_"I don't understand how you could love a man like that and not love me."_

_"Don't approach this subject with me. You…do not know what you are talking about."_

_"I know some things. I know what I've read. What I've been told by…nearly everyone except you, because you don't let me in. You could open your heart…and your bed…to a man of clearly questionable character. I'm guessing you actually let him into your home on occasion."_

_"I don't need you…critiquing my decisions, particularly when everything you know is through gossip and hearsay."_

_"Look…Let me in. I can show you love," he said, trying to take her hand, "I can make you trust me."_

_"I deserve to be happy too," Cuddy said. "What is best for me right now, is to do what I need to for myself and Rachel. I am being honest with myself, and with you." She unlocked her front door and stepped inside, partially closing it in front of her, but peeking out. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but staying here…in this relationship…will only hurt everyone more. I have to do what is best for all involved. If you understood…at all…you'd know you have no control over who you fall in love with. I can't pretend to belong somewhere when I know in my heart that it's not where I should be."_

* * *

_**-Shortly after House moved in with Kate-Philadelphia**_

_He was awake. Again. His leg throbbed, but not anything like the dull, horrible ache in his chest. He was convinced it would always be there, locked in him like the pain in his leg. Looking down at his thigh he couldn't help but think, with a great deal of self-loathing, that his being was as ugly and damaged and twisted as his useless fucking leg. He got up, limped painfully out to the kitchen, and found a bottle. The Vicodin was off limits, but no one was taking his liquor. He poured a much taller glass than he knew he should, taking a long slug immediately and silently whispering thanks to the burning sensation that traveled down his throat, warmed his physical self, and would hopefully soon be numbing his mind._

_He sat on the stool in the kitchen, miserable, in pain, wishing for something to distract him. He got up, cautiously creeping into the living room to look through the piles of books Kate had in the hopes that there was something there that could keep his attention._

_Kate was escorting a late night visitor from her room to the front door. This was not at all atypical. Since House had arrived, he witnessed a parade of different women who came home with Kate. The only thing they all seemed to have in common was beauty. The beauty came in different colors, shapes and sizes, but all of the women were unmistakably attractive. The two women had a brief discussion that sounded like plans to call each other, although it was obvious to all three of them that no such call would be made. The visitor smirked, "Or…maybe I'll just see you around the bar."_

_"Yea," Kate nodded, "probably safer than either of us waiting for a call."_

_"It was fun," the woman flirted._

_"Definitely," Kate said, offering the woman a quick peck on the cheek before saying their goodbyes._

_The door closed, and Kate sauntered past House to the kitchen. He followed her out. "You hungry?" she asked him. "Pizza?"_

_"At four am?"_

_"I forget you health nuts don't eat after seven…" Kate stared._

_"OK, pizza," he said, dropping back down on the stool._

_She called the pizza place and when she hung up the phone, she leaned on the kitchen island, stealing his drink and taking a long sip.  
_

_"Does it make you happy?" he asked.  
_

_Kate looked thoughtfully at the glass, "I'm more of a rum girl myself…but scotch'll do."_

_"I meant the parade of mindless bimbos."_

_"Does it make me happy? Umm…I like to have fun. It doesn't make me less happy."_

_House smirked fleetingly, "You're not a complete moron. Don't you want someone you can actually spar with a little? Someone who can argue…challenge you? Excite your brain and your love stuff at the same time?"_

_"Baby," she said with sweetness, "I don't need girls for that…you challenge me."_

_He sat blank faced through her sarcasm and waited._

_Kate sighed before she answered, "I don't want complications. Complications…hurt. I pick up a few straight…or mostly straight…girls who want to see what things are like. We hang out, have fun, they go back to their guys with an experience crossed off of their bucket lists or a story to tell some slack-mouthed male that'll have him hard and panting in minutes. Everyone's happy."_

_"So, by that logic, you are happy?"_

_"I guess…parts of me are downright giddy."_

_House nodded, seriously, somewhat sadly, staring into his drink._

_They were eating pizza a half an hour later and she said, somewhat drunkenly, "I think…maybe this whole happiness thing is…a pot of gold…good luck finding a real one."_

_"So what's the point?" House asked._

_"The point is to find something to let the worst of the shit that's inside you out and replace it with things that are less horrible. To find something that makes it all a little more palatable. That's what you need. You're all tied up. You have messed up feelings inside and no way to get rid of them. Find stuff that's fun to keep you busy while you look for something you might never find anyway."_

_"Yea," he said with disbelief._

_"Come back to my bar with me tonight. Hang out with the best looking lesbian around. Listen to music. Eat food. Stare at gorgeous women. Bring one home if you feel like it, I won't complain."_

_He groaned._

_"I like you," Kate said, "and you like me…you know it."_

_"My god you just sent one bimbo home and now you're after me."_

_"You're just my type…you're only a few radical surgeries and a metric shit-ton of injectable hormones away from being my perfect woman."_

_House sort of smirked again._

_"You like me," Kate said. "Sitting here, with no outlet for all of that shit you have bottled up…it's not good. I'm not saying you have to open your heart…share your deepest and darkest…I'm just saying you need some sort of outlet…or you're gonna forget why you're even putting in the effort."_

_He nodded. He was already trying to figure out why he was putting in the effort._

_Kate continued after another long pull on the beverage, "If you have to put in the effort…at least you'll have good company, awesome food, and great music. Things worth living for all by themselves. Something to make this never-ending trudge to the finish line worthwhile. Everyone needs someone or something they can really relax around. Because keeping your guard up every second of every day…doesn't leave you any space to do anything else. Once in a while, it's good to put your back against something and know that whatever's behind you…is not gonna hurt you."_

* * *

It was very easy to forget that Ava Cuddy-House was only eight years-old. Not many children her age spoke with such a command of language. Few children spoke about the principles of physics or made references to the PDR either. Ava preferred the friendship of adults and her brother over interactions with her own peers. She had experienced things by the age of three that, thankfully, most people didn't have to experience in their lifetime. She was sensitive, but hid it well; brilliant, and showed it easily; logical and calculating, but with a heart filled with love and loyalty.

It was believed that Ava could do almost anything she wanted to do, but there were some things she couldn't change. Beneath the brilliance, maturity and eloquence, she was still eight years-old. She also couldn't seem to completely vanquish the vicious night terrors that occasionally reared their heads. They were fewer, but horrifying. Ava hated them.

When they left the Outer Banks, and returned to Philly, they knew that it was time for Ava to meet her attacker. Cuddy and House took her aside the morning before they left.

"You don't have to do this," Cuddy said supportively.

"I want to," Ava nodded.

"No one will think any less of you if you decide to back out," House assured.

"I know. I believe you," the girl answered. "But I'm ready to do this."

When they pulled up to the prison, the air felt still. The building itself was intimidating. To House, there were memories of days spent behind different, but equally confining, bars. To Cuddy, thoughts of the boy who killed Rachel, House's imprisonment, and Ava's attacker all hung in the air. Jack sat in the back, overwhelmed but calm as the myriad of feelings burgeoning in the car pushed on him so heavily that he felt he couldn't move. Ava saw the structure as both intimidating, and ironically, the key to her freedom.

Jack wanted to go along, he wanted to support his sister, but his parents felt it was best that he waited with House outside. Ava was too young, but Jack was far too young. Ava wanted her brother and father there, nearby, but outside, so she could see them as soon as she left.

Cuddy took the girl's hand as they walked up to the entrance. They went through metal detectors and a brief search before they were allowed in to see Brian Yost. Saunders waited at home, and the family elected to have Ava speak with the staff at the prison, and talk to Saunders on their return. They thought it might allow Saunders to remain safely distanced from the memory in Ava's mind. The prison psychologist came out to talk to them briefly, as did the corrections officer who would be there. Ava remembered nothing that was said, she was focused, overwhelmed, and ready.

When they finally allowed Ava and Cuddy into the meeting room, they waited nervously. This was a special room, set up for private consultations with lawyers or for other highly sensitive matters. With the psychologist sitting behind them, Ava sat in the chair with her leg firmly against her mother, a grounding point of contact. When the door opened, it was loud, even through the glass. There were microphones and speakers, no need for telephones, everyone in the room could hear the discussion. Ava swallowed when she finally saw the man she had last seen as a toddler. The last time she looked at him, she peered up at him from under the table as a two year-old with a broken arm, numerous bruises and burns across her upper body from the sauce he threw at her that was sitting on top of the stove when he went berserk. In prison, he walked uncomfortably, his hands cuffed in front of him, dressed in his jumpsuit. Everything about his environment was restraining.

He was smaller than what she remembered, with tightly shaved hair and neat goatee. He had disarmingly clear brown eyes. He was wide, somewhat muscular, but certainly not a body builder. He was tall, although not the towering giant of her dreams. He sat down, leaning back, legs spread wide with a confident and uncaring aura about him. "Hey," he said as casually as if he was walking past a stranger in a supermarket.

"Hey," Ava answered back, watching him with interest.

"I just want to make it clear, I'm not your daddy, so don't even try that shit."

"You think I'm here, searching for a father figure?"

"I think you're here to tell me I'm a big asshole. Maybe see if I'm your daddy. Get your anger off your chest, right?"

"Not really," Ava shrugged. "I'm not really all that angry, and I'm definitely not shopping for a father figure."

"OK," Brian answered. "I don't know who your daddy was either, if you're looking for money. I'm thinking her dealer, but he might be dead. Sometimes if she ran short on cash…you know…she'd get a fix one way or another."

"Actually, I don't _know_. That's not my life anymore."

Within seconds Cuddy was ready to leap through the glass at the demeaning way he was speaking to Ava, or grab the child and run. She never wanted Ava to feel as if she had come to the world unwanted.

Brian sort of laughed, "So you remember that your mom was sort of…slutty?"

"My Mom's not slutty. And my Dad's not a coward who would beat a kid. If you mean Monica Smith? She was an incubator and nothing more," Ava replied.

"A what?"

"Nevermind," Ava said. "I have parents who want me, I'm not trying to get in touch with my biological roots."

"If you want to call me an asshole, go ahead. Get it over with. Tell me…whatever you have to tell me. I told Monica I was a shitty boyfriend to pick since she had a kid."

"You beat her too," Ava commented, "so I guess you were a crappy boyfriend for a lot of reasons."

"Well, she didn't listen, so you can't blame it all on me."

Ava blinked, watched, thought. "I'm not here to blame you either. I have dreams."

"Don't we all"

"About you. Bad dreams. You're tall…gigantic, with pitch black, angry eyes and blood coming out of your mouth. Your hands are so big they snap my bones like little toothpicks. You try to dig my heart right out of my chest. In my dreams you are so big and so terrifying. I couldn't figure out what was real and what wasn't. You really don't look anything like how I remembered you."

"Kids that little don't remember shit anyway. You're lucky."

"Really? I remember hiding under the table. I remember the way a broken arm feels. I remember my skin burning while I could smell that cheap, crappy, canned spaghetti sauce…I could taste it. But you, you seemed so different in my memory. Weird."

Brian looked away, finally the cockiness was dropping from him a bit. "Your mother should have gave you up a lot earlier, none of that would have happened if she just woulda gave you up to someone else. Or picked another guy. I warned her I was no good with kids."

His tone sounded mildly repentant, although his blame misplaced.

"She was as messed up as you were. I don't blame you…or her solely." Ava said. "I wanted to see you. And in a really weird way, say thanks."

Brian was, at that point, thoroughly shocked. "What?"

"Thank you for being such a huge asshole. The way I figure it, Monica was probably neglecting me since I was born, I don't remember, but I can guess. I would have been one of those kids going to school, dirty, hungry, probably in trouble all of the time. They would have threatened her, and moved me in and out of her home…I talk to other kids who've been there, who've been through that. Kids who were abused for years and years. You were so bad to me…so horrible, that they locked up you and Monica, and made sure I'd never have to live in her home again. If you're gonna be an asshole…you might as well go all-in."

There were small tears in Ava's eyes, as there were in Cuddy's. The girl reached over and put her open hand on her mother's leg, and waited for Cuddy to cover it. Cuddy placed her larger hand on top of Ava's, reassuringly present.

Ava stood, and began to leave, "That's it?" Brian asked, shocked.

"What else do you want from me? You stole pieces of my mind, my dreams, chunks of my childhood. You owned them for a long time. I…don't think you'll own them anymore. I think I took them back."

Brian was scattered, searching for thoughts. He was prepared to be screamed at for an hour, to be treated with anger and hostility, but he wasn't prepared for anything Ava had said. It was then that guilt seemed to visibly wash over him. "Umm…is your arm OK?"

Ava sat down again, crossed her arms, held the spot that was most painful when the injury originally occurred. "Yea," she said. "It healed up."

"Good," Brian nodded. "You weren't, like, burned bad, were ya?"

"Some spots were bad," Ava said, pointing to one small area on her neck where there was a faint reminder. "They said it was good I took my shirt off so that the sauce didn't keep burning my skin. They were impressed that a kid that little did that."

"That was pretty smart."

"And my parents are doctors. I think they made sure everything was taken care of once they had me. Once I was safe."

"Look, I could apologize, if you want. I have a parole hearing coming up…a letter from you would help."

At that point, Cuddy scoffed, and looked at Ava, then at Brian. She said with calm and metered assuredness, "You are the lowest form of human being I've ever encountered. My daughter won't tell you that, but I will. It's clear she didn't expect an apology and she's certainly not going to buy one from you. The degree of cowardice that you show is somehow more developed than what I had expected, and I am completely amazed as to how that is possible. No one was talking about blame or responsibility except you, but there is a responsibility, particularly to a child, but really to everyone, to treat people with a small degree of humanity. Children, the helpless, the innocent, we're all responsible to make sure that we protect them, or that we, at the very least, don't hurt them."

"Look, lady," Brian started.

"Be quiet," Ava said stiffly, "Mom's talking."

Brian looked startled, but Cuddy guessed his stunned silence wouldn't last long. She continued while she could, "In the long run, you and Monica were the ones who lost out. I am a better mother, a better human being, for having known her, for having her in my life. The number of times she's hugged me when I needed it, or said something that has made a difference to me, I can't even approximate. I'm glad we were lucky enough to have her find us. To have her select us as parents. I won't thank you, sorry…I can't do that. But I will refuse to forget what she means to me. No punishment, no sentence, no…act of retribution will _ever_ be sufficient to address what you have done. So I'll hold on to the fact that your loss was our gain. I hope she always feels that it was her gain as well. She's in a place where she is loved and cherished. We will treat her the way she was supposed to be treated from the beginning. Sure, with discipline, and guidance, but…also with happiness, and fun and so very much love. You and I know the truth, you'll be a prisoner long after you're released."

"Is this the part when you tell me you're gonna rip my balls off or some kinda bullshit?" he asked.

"No," Cuddy said. "I think I said it best when I said, 'no act of retribution will ever be enough.'"

Ava smiled at her mother, Cuddy's calm and poise, coupled with the loving compassion of her statement, were flowing through the girl. Ava cleared her throat and then said, "I just really wanted to see you, and I hope I took my dreams back. I guess we'll see. Mom's right, I don't want an apology, it was nice meeting you."

At that Ava stood, and Cuddy stood, and they began to walk toward the door. Brian jumped out of his chair, "Wait, Ava Leigh, come back, we can talk about stuff."

Ava paused for a second, confused by a memory. She remembered hearing her name, "Ava Leigh," that was what Monica Smith had called her.

"That's not even my name anymore," Ava said. "No one calls me that."

Ava and Cuddy turned, and it was then that they realized he likely didn't get a lot of visitors, and they were both certain that Ava hadn't acted the way he expected. The girl waved, "Bye."

"I'm sorry," Brian finally said, halfheartedly, an afterthought.

Ava turned around and nodded, merely accepting the words without happiness or judgment of any kind. "OK," she answered.

They walked out into the hall, and Cuddy took her hand, "Are you OK?"

Ava nodded her head, she looked OK, but Cuddy's instincts told her better. Ava said, "I have to pee," as she pointed to the bathroom.

Cuddy followed her in, and once the outer door was closed, but before she got to a stall, Ava snapped. Cuddy and House had both expected anger. Ava often broke through with anger first before she could express sadness or disappointment, but it was all too much. Ava leaned against the wall, covered her face with her hands and began to sob. Her entire body was crying. Cuddy had never seen her daughter embrace sorrow like that.

Cuddy went to Ava's side, completely unconcerned with the fact that she was kneeling on the floor of the visitor's bathroom at the prison. Ava let her body go, falling against Cuddy as she sobbed. Ava, like her parents, was rarely entirely disarmed, but she was in that moment.

Cuddy whispered words of love, support and pride in the strength of character that the girl showed. Cuddy whispered apologies for what the child had gone through as a toddler; She would always wish she could have found a way to stop it from happening to a child she didn't even know yet.

Cuddy couldn't help but wonder if she and House had made a monumental mistake in allowing the child to come. If they had allowed something that caused her damage in irreparable ways.

Then Ava stood, her hands on Cuddy's shoulders and she said, "I love you, Mom. So much more than you can tell."

"I know, Ava Katherine," Cuddy said, brushing the tears from her daughter's face, and calling her by the name they had given her when they adopted her. "You are such an amazing person. And I love you so much. I'm so proud of who you are…both strong and compassionate."

"Strong until I bawled like a baby."

"Sometimes things that look weak really take great strength. It's hard to cry. It sucks…trust me, I get it. Some of that's been locked up in you since you were tiny. Since before you were ours."

Ava smiled and nodded, she knew her mother knew. She knew there was a depth of understanding between them that ran much deeper than anything they ever said. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"I hope it was the right thing," Cuddy answered.

"It was," Ava smiled. "I'll go to my appointments, I'm not trying to get out of it…"

Cuddy smiled, "Good. We just want to make sure you're OK."

"Let's go get Jack and Dad. They're probably waiting."

House saw them when they cleared the building. Ava seemed OK, although her walk showed that her body was tired, and she looked so tiny. House got out of the car as they got close, and Ava practically ran into his arms. He stood, surprised that he was holding the kid that he rarely got to hold anymore. Her hand found the side of his face before she kissed his cheek and whispered, "Love you, Catchah."

Cuddy saw his face twist in a contented grin at the use of the very first name Ava had ever given him when she arrived. When she wanted him one night after a night terror, she referred to him by the only thing she could think of: his scratchy face. She hadn't called him that since she started calling him Dad.

"Love you too, kid," he smiled and then he felt her beginning to cry again.

Remembering his leg, she got down from his grasp and hugged her brother. Jack, the embodiment of empathy, hugged her with his whole being, willing ever single feeling of love and support in his sister's direction.

She stepped back, "Thanks, Jack."

He nodded and she smiled at him. "Did Mom Kung Fu him?" he asked, hoping to make his sister laugh.

"No, she'd have to punch through glass and stuff."

"She could have kicked through the glass with her pointy shoes," Jack teased, looking up at Cuddy over Ava.

"Fine, make fun," Cuddy said, smiling at Jack's attempt to ease the sadness.

"Leave your mother alone," House said, "When the zombies come, we'll all have to count on her to protect us, so we need to stay on her good side."

They were all standing reassuringly near Ava, and then she said, "Can we just go back to the apartment, I want to get out of here."

Tears continued to slip down Ava's face, but she didn't seem devastated, it was almost as if a dam had broken, and the remaining emotion held back by it was still trickling forward long after the initial torrent had eased.

House and Cuddy got in the car, listening to the kids talking in the back seat. They could see Ava, the tears still dripping, Jack holding her hand. The sight of two tiny people, who loved each other in perhaps the purest sense, both trusting and giving, was enough in itself to bring tears to a parent's eyes.

"So did Mom say anything to him?" Jack asked. "Did she get the crazy look?"

"She was perfect," Ava whispered. "She was all sophisticated and calmly told him what a huge jerk he was. You know when you say it like that, you still seem collected and cool, it just made him look like more of an idiot."

Cuddy smiled then said, "What crazy look?"

She turned around and Jack made Cuddy's "crazy face." It was stiff, with a set jaw, and furious eyes, and Cuddy had to giggle because it seemed pretty close to what she thought she did. Not wildly angry, the type of anger that would bubble beneath a surface in a warning to anyone who may provoke further response.

"What about your dad?" Cuddy asked. "Does he have a crazy look?"

"When doesn't he have a crazy look?" Jack answered.

"Show Mom," Ava prompted. "Show Mom his crazy look."

Jack looked at Ava, they shared a smirk, and Jack mussed up his hair, adopted an entirely disgruntled expression, and murmured, "Idiot."

Ava actually laughed aloud, "That's pretty good, Jack."

Ava continued to cry on and off the entire way back to the apartment and when they first returned. The family tried to be supportive, to let her talk, and occasionally make her laugh. House and Cuddy were really becoming concerned that they had made a monumental mistake in allowing Ava to meet with her attacker, and both were trying to fathom ways to make up for their horrible misjudgment. Their daughter got up from the sofa where her family surrounded her and went to change her clothes. She came out carrying the clothing she had worn to the prison, dressed in a more familiar outfit, and walked over to the trashcan. She stepped on the lever to pop open the lid and flung the dirty clothes into it, victoriously brushing off her hands when she was done.

She stood in front of them, and realizing that they weren't admonishing or protesting, she smiled, "You guys are the best," she said with deep sincerity, and then it was gone. Her sadness, even the sincerity, and she smiled, somehow visibly lighter.

Perhaps they _had _made the right decision.

* * *

The kids fell asleep on the sofa watching a movie at their apartment in Philly. Ava seemed relieved, although her body was still exhausted, but there was a sense of a burden removed from her. The next evening, they'd go home, return to their lives and pick up any pieces.

"Think she's OK?" House asked.

"I think so. It'll take time. I just want to make sure that…if she needs help, we see it."

"What about you?"

She laughed, but he waited, looking expectantly.

"Are you OK?" he insisted.

Her face twisted with sadness, "It hurts. Seeing him…hurts. Seeing her seeing him…hurts. You never want anything to happen to them…but…"

Now that Ava was asleep, Cuddy leaned against House, finally able to let her tension flow away in a place where she was safe. "I admit it," she said, "I wanted to hurt him. But she was there…telling him that she was glad she found us. She can be such a confident little smart ass, and so tough, but…she really appreciates what she has. How many kids…how many _people, _really appreciate what they have?"

They looked back at their sleeping children. It was another one of those moments that they'd replay in their minds at milestones in their lives. They'd see the shadow of this young Ava when they'd worry about her being out as a teen on her own for an evening, when her stubbornness drove them crazy, every time she made them proud, and every time she silenced critics who told her she'd fail.

Jack was all too eager to support and defend his sister, so in touch but so unafraid. There was a comfort in knowing that the two of them would probably always have each other. They had their own sense of pride in Jack, he too was brave and unrelenting, and also unapologetically himself, never really concerned with fitting in. They would imagine how small but strong he was as he napped on the sofa as a child years later when he'd play football and his mother would squirm with worry every time he was tackled, when he would stand in front of a crowd and charm every last member of the audience without ever breaking a sweat, and that one year that he went from being the smallest in the family to the largest, seemingly overnight.

"We're gonna be OK," House nodded at her as they looked on, both feeling the particularly parental cocktail of emotions: love, worry, hope, protectiveness and pride.

"Yea, we are. For now…I'm really ready to go home."


	36. Dreaming

_A/N-Thank you so much to all who commented on the last chapter-IHeartHouseCuddy, huddyholic, JLCH, tori, Josam, Boo's House, TheHouseWitch, Little Greg, ikissedtheLaurie, Alex, Abby, CaptainK8, KiwiClare, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, ammeboss, HuddyGirl, dmarchl, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, Guest, Jane Q. Doe, BJAllen815, jaybe61, IWuvHouse and Mon Fogel._

_This chapter's a little different. I cut it from the story, but then I felt one of the story's major subplots lacked closure on one particular front, and I wanted to give it that closure. I hope it reads OK._

_For those who may be interested, the second part of Aches and Pains will be up for Thursday._

* * *

All of the jokes about Cuddy's protectiveness were based firmly in truth. She and House often joked that as long as only one of them fell apart at a time, they'd be OK, and it was true. After everything that had happened in the previous weeks, the arrival of Frank, Blythe's death, the confrontation of Brian Yost, Cuddy remained strong, and her family survived mostly unscathed. In a few hours, they'd be on their way back home, where she hoped she could breathe freely again. She functioned perfectly well under pressure, but often the moment when all of the tension was gone and there was nothing else to fight, could be unexpectedly difficult.

Her family was resting, bags packed by the front door, but she couldn't sleep. At the end of the day, it was difficult to easily ignore the wrongs done to the people she loved most. She was hurt and angry about the pain they'd experienced, and what she told Brian was right, there was no act of retribution that would ever make up for the things that had happened. When House asked her if she was OK before they went to bed, it was because he knew she wasn't. He also knew she didn't seem ready to discuss the matter further.

She paced through the apartment, reviewing travel documents, prepping for the trip, and trying to consider a way to move on from everything that had happened. She went out onto the porch, appreciating the feeling of a city a few stories below her. The city was mostly sleeping, with hints of life and alertness reminding her that she wasn't the only one alert at that hour. She sat back on the chair, put her feet up, and tipped her head back to try and relax. Exhaustion carried her body toward rest, toward a blessed reprieve from awareness, and she thought about going back to bed, but worried that the simple act of walking back inside would make her fully alert again.

Her eyes were closed, breath even, and she heard the distant sound of a car backfiring as her body released into relaxation. While she drifted into near sleep, she was oddly aware both of her dream world, and the world of reality.

_In her dream, she was suddenly gripped by a gut-tightening panic that something had happened to her son. She stood, noting that her body was left behind, resting on the furniture on the patio, while she drifted into Jack's room. He was napping, curled and wound through blankets, bits of his body visible through the mass of fabric-covered padding. She went to his side, checked for his pulse, his breath, kissed his head and smiled down at the only child she had given birth to. She sighed, feeling relaxed that her concerns for her son were unfounded until she heard a scream. It was booming, loud and unfamiliar, more monster than human, a truly terrifying sound. _

_Walking out of Jack's room, she pulled the door tightly shut and found she was no longer in their apartment in Philly. At the end of the hall there were stairs, creaky, ill-lit stairs that she had never seen before. She walked forward into the stairwell, cautiously bracing one hand on the wall where she felt cracking paint and loose plaster under her fingertips as she treaded cautiously down the narrow steps. When she reached the landing at the foot of the staircase, she stepped off to the right into the kitchen. In sharp contrast to the dark stairwell, she squinted from the brightness of the room lit by two uncovered light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Once inside, the loudness of the man yelling was as abrasive and harsh as the light, so her instincts were to cover both her eyes, and her ears, although she knew she couldn't do that. The room was painted bright yellow and white, with a border on the wall around the ceiling made of cheerful sunflowers, supported by sturdy, verdant stems. In an almost sarcastic contrast to the warmth of the border, all of the surfaces were dingy, with leftover particles of food on the counters, and a thick slick of grease around the cooktop. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, and she heard a scurrying that she could only assume was coming from rodents or roaches or some sort of infestation. She heard the angry yelling continue, but still couldn't see the source of the noise. Suddenly she was transfixed by one thing, one item in the kitchen that she'd never eat anything from if she had a choice: a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove top. It was burning, boiling, clearly left on for far too long. Then she knew where she was, as that realization gripped her, she knew she had little time to act. _

_Unexpectedly, in the corner, a man materialized: Brian Yost. Not the calm, slightly cocky man from the prison, but a loud, bizarre, frantic man, obviously under the influence of drugs and completely without any sense of control. Her eyes began to search, she knew the child had to be there somewhere. And there she was. Ava was on a booster seat that was far too close to the edge of the chair it was perched upon, and she was trying to get away. Her limbs were less practiced and controlled, with the uncertainty of a toddler. She got down from the seat, almost falling, as the man charged toward her. It was then that Cuddy stepped forward, putting herself between the child and the the man screaming obscenities and threats. Ava's eyes were filled with fear until she saw Cuddy's hands reaching out, and then the child reached up, face lit with happiness and relief, whispering softly, "Mommy."_

_Cuddy wrapped Ava up, motherly arms surrounding the child as Ava hid her face against Cuddy's chest, seeking a rescue from the angry man, an absent and uncaring mother, the hideous conditions, and a future that didn't seem to hold a lot of hope. Cuddy ran for the front door as quickly as she could, gripping onto the child with all of her strength and running so fervently that the muscles of her legs burned. And then she was there, in their apartment in Philly. She walked back the hall, the stairs into Ava's first home were gone, and the apartment was quiet and peaceful, much as it was earlier. Cuddy held the frightened toddler in her arms, brushing back the child's mussed up hair and whisking tears away from her tiny face. They went down the hall to Jack's room. He was there, sleeping peacefully. _

_Cuddy put Ava in his bed with him, looking down to find, not a toddler, but Ava as she was in the present. Taller, stronger, older. In Cuddy's dream, the two children held each other, and she slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, keeping it tightly closed with her body. She had decided, she'd remain there for the rest of the night, and watch over her children until she saw the reassuring morning sun._

_Cuddy heard a yelp, followed by a series of pained groans from an obviously larger being somewhere on the other side of that door. She turned, concerned, feeling drawn to the sound with a desire equal to the desire to watch her children sleep. She weighed the options, feeling that she couldn't neglect the person who was clearly in need of her help, and feeling uncertain that her children would be safe if she left. When she turned back to her right, she saw a girl whose face she knew perfectly. "Rachel," Cuddy said, happy to look upon her first child again. "I miss you."_

_Rachel hugged her, sweetly, "I know you miss me, but I'm always here."_

_Cuddy began to speak and she heard the groan again in the distance._

"_Mom, you have to go," Rachel said urgently. "I'll stay with them. I'll help you. I always do."_

_Cuddy looked at the door, concerned, evaluating._

_There was a louder thud, followed by rough coughing, and an angry rebuke spewing a steady stream of disapproval._

"_Mom," Rachel said, her tone sincere and concerned, "You better go."_

_Cuddy hugged Rachel tightly, "Lock the door when I leave."_

_Rachel nodded._

"_I love you, Rach."_

"_I love you too. Don't worry, I'll be here."_

_Cuddy smiled, kissed the girl one more time, and walked out into the hallway._

_The moment the door clicked shut behind her, she was in a different home, in a different hallway. This place was unlike the last place, the place where she found Ava. This place smelled like pine cleaner and pot roast being slow cooked in a thick gravy filled with chunks of white potatoes. This place was pristine, almost too neat and tidy, and so very, very cold. At the end of the hall, past a bathroom and a spartan master bedroom, was another room. _

_The door of the room at the end of the hall was closed, a light that drained out into the hall from beneath the door and through a keyhole below the knob told her it was the right place to be. She tiptoed to the end of the hall, desperately trying not to make a sound, certain that, in this place, she should not disturb the quiet or upset the order._

_Cuddy opened the thin, light door and stepped into a bedroom. It was clean like the rest of the home, neat, with off-white contractor's paint on the wall. There was no clutter on the floor, everything was in its place. She tried to figure out why she was in this small, nondescript room. Looking for clues, she walked a few more steps into the room, and found a desk. On the desk there were textbooks, they looked like high school text books, anatomy, English literature, advanced calculus. She pushed them to the side to reveal notebooks underneath, which she opened and saw familiar handwriting. Her heart sank as she heard shallow breathing, each inhalation punctuated with a soft, almost unheard, pained sigh. She turned, found a guitar leaning against the wall, and her eyes settled on the foot of a neatly made bed that she walked toward. _

"_Do I know you?" she heard from the direction of the bed. _

_It was a voice both familiar and strange. Lighter, less worn, less gravelly, but clearly familiar and full of discomfort. _

"_You will know me," she said sweetly as she cautiously sat on the edge of the bed. _

_She looked down at her clothes, realizing that she was dressed in the flirty, tighter clothes of her youth. Turning to the dresser, she caught her reflection in the mirror. She was young, eighteen, the face of the woman he would meet later in his life._

"_You look familiar," he said. _

_His arm was draped across his torso as he leaned against pillows propped up on the head of his bed, a book open on his lap. He was tall but she knew he'd still grow a bit taller. He was very thin, wiry, and wore sneakers, shorts and a tee shirt so worn she could practically see through it. _

"_What happened to you? Let me see," she asked._

_He looked away, his curiosity about the intruder forgotten. "Please, just…go away," he mumbled._

_His breath was uneasy, she could see the pain in everything about the way that he moved, and the ways he didn't move. _

"_You can trust me," she said. _

"_Right," he said with disbelief._

"_Tell me what happened."_

"_I think you know," he said, at first angrily, but then turned toward her, confused by his own words, confused by the realization that he thought the stranger knew exactly what was going on._

"_Yea," she nodded, "I do."_

_He looked away, closing his eyes like he just wanted to go to sleep, dream his way into a different place entirely._

"_How old are you?" she asked._

"_Seventeen. Now, please go away," he asked again, hating the empathetic way she was looking at him. _

"_Come with me," she said, standing, and holding out her hand._

"_Two more months and I'm leaving for college and I'll never live under his roof again. I'll be fine. I have to stay here until then."_

"_No, you don't. You can come with me. One day you will. You'll leave everything behind and run away with me."_

_He turned, looked her over, confusion across his face, "I think…maybe…I already knew that."_

"_Then, why wait? Come with me now."_

"_I can't."_

"_I hate him," she said, "I hate what he does to you."_

_He shrugged, "I've made it this long. And he isn't always like this. We just…do not get along."_

"_You aren't little anymore. Let's stand up to him together. I'll help you. I'll help you fight him."_

"_He's a Marine. He likes killing people," House said, stating what he believed was the obvious._

"_I doubt that's true," she countered.  
_

"_Trust me, fighting back is a huge mistake. I tried that. It just pisses him off more."_

"_Then let's leave. Let me help you. Let's start our life together now. We don't have to wait."_

"You_ want to be with _me_?" he asked._

_She sat back down on the bed, "Oh god, yes. More than you can even imagine. I'll marry you. I'll have a baby with you, adopt a little girl. We'll live…in a place that's as close to paradise as anywhere on earth."_

"_You're full of shit."_

"_I'm not."_

"_You're gonna have my baby? So that means that you…and me…we're gonna…_you know_," he smiled a bit shyly and a bit lasciviously, the roots of his future wanton admiration showing slightly through his youthful uncertainty._

"_Yea…we're gonna…'_you know_' a lot, actually," she smirked, looking in the mirror again and seeing her young face blush._

_He smiled, uncertain how to act, "Lucky me."_

"_Lucky me"_

"_If you hang around, I guess I must be pretty good…?" he said tentatively._

"_You're amazing…my ideal. Or you will be in a few years. Not just in bed though. You're an amazing man too. You'll cure the sick, help the hurting…you'll mend my broken heart…one that I will be certain will never mend. You'll be a great father and husband, friend and doctor," she said, looking compassionately at him._

"_That's not me. You're in the wrong room," he said._

"_No, I'm not, trust me. This is the right room."_

_He looked at her, studying her face. He looked away, and said simply, "You're really pretty."_

"_Thank you"_

"_You seem…really nice too."_

"_You won't always think so," she smirked, wrinkling her nose. "You'll like me…then you won't. For a while, we'll barely be able to speak to each other. But we'll get through. We always do. When we do…we'll be great. Really, really great."_

_He was thinking, processing, not reacting, but she wasn't certain if it was from confusion or pain._

"_What can I do to help you?" she offered._

"_My parents aren't home," he suggested with a devious glint in his eye._

"_Are you…trying to fool around with me?" she asked with a surprised laugh._

_He looked away, rejected. "You said I'm the best. I just figured…"_

_Her fingers reached out and touched his face, smoother than she'd ever find it again, faintly scruffy. "I'm not turning you down. Believe, me, I'll spend countless hours making it up to you. I'm not saying no, I'm just saying not yet. Be patient, it'll be worth it."_

_He looked at her, a bit sadly, but trying to convince her to rethink her position. "If we're going to anyway…why not start now?"_

_He tried to sit up and winced at the pain in his side, remembering his injury quite clearly. _

"_You're in too much pain to do what you want to do anyway," she replied.  
_

"_I'm seventeen," he scoffed, "I'm never too much…anything…to stop me from wanting to do that."_

"_That has nothing to do with your age, that's just you…it won't change when you get older," she grinned, before remembering just how much pain and sadness they'd survive before they were better._

"_Come on," he tempted, lifting an eyebrow, "Make me feel better."_

"_I would, but I'm way too old for you."_

_He forced himself to sit up the whole way, still wincing, trying not to look hurt. "You're not too old for me," he commented, disoriented._

_She remembered herself, remembered that she looked as she'd look when they'd first meet. "I may not look older, but I am. I'd be taking advantage of you."_

"_You're perfect. I really like to be taken advantage of by cute girls."_

"_Some things never change," she smiled._

_Her hands cradled his face and she leaned forward, placing one, gentle, chaste kiss against his lips that she held for a few seconds and then backed away._

_He leaned forward again, trying to steal another kiss, "Don't stop," he asked. "I don't want you to go. I know I don't know you…but there's…something."_

"_One day…you'll know me. One day, you'll love me."_

"_Do you love me back? One day?" he asked, just an inch away from her lips._

"_I will love you…more than I ever thought I could love a man," she smiled._

_The door flew open and a man in fatigues bound in, "Who in the hell is this, Greg?" he screamed. "What do I have to do to make you have some respect for your mother and I? You think your mother appreciates you bringing your whores into her home."_

"_She's not a whore, she's my wife," House said, his voice sounding not like an injured teen, but like the man she heard speaking to her every day. The lines between the dream and her reality were rapidly blurring._

"_Are you talking back to me, smart ass? Didn't you learn anything? What do I have to do? Your fucking head is so goddamn thick I don't know what I have to do to pound through it."_

_Cuddy stood up, turning toward House on the bed, his voice older but his face still young. She reached out a hand, "Come with me, now."_

"_I have to stay here," he argued, "You go, I'll see you later, I promise."_

_John House was standing over her, screaming, "Get out of here."_

_She was ignoring the older man, still looking at House, "I won't leave without you. I can't. I can't leave you here."_

_John House boomed, "You have ten seconds to leave, or the boy will regret it."_

"_Dammit, House, now. Come with me, don't stay here. You can't stay here anymore, please!" She was begging, pleading, the thought of leaving him alone, in pain and with his angry father terrified her._

_Just then, she caught movement, the sight of John House's fist flying toward his son. She stepped to the side, stopping the progress of his fist with her own body. She curled over. The pain was horrible, intense, blinding. She couldn't think, or breathe, and then suddenly she heard House's voice. It was clear, the strong voice she heard every day. "That's enough," House said loudly, not to his father, but to Cuddy. "It has to end. You can't keep doing this to yourself."_

_Cuddy's pain was gone, John House was gone. She felt arms surround her, lift her up. When her eyes opened, she saw House, no longer a teen, but the man she knew. He continued, "We cannot stay here. We can't waste any more time in this place. It's time…for us to leave."_

_She looked at his face, and she let go. She leaned her forehead against his chest, releasing herself to him. He lowered his face to her forehead, and kissed her softly. They began to walk out, House stronger in her dream than in reality, easily carrying her down the hall and out of the home._

"Trust me, Cuddy. I've got you," he said, his voice clear and current, and then she realized it was him, that her dream had ended. He was lifting her out of the chair on the patio and carrying her back into the apartment.

"Watch your leg, put me down," she said nervously.

"I got you," he mumbled. "Relax, I can take care of you."

"The kids," she practically shouted.

He put her down a few steps inside the patio door, and she ran to Jack's room. She opened the door, found both kids inside Jack's room, almost as if she had actually moved Ava there, practically feeling Rachel's presence in the room.

"When did Ava come over here?" House asked, yawning.

"I…don't know," Cuddy said.

"What were you dreaming?" he asked as they went back to their room.

"Nothing," she answered.

"You aren't really going to do that, are you? Keep it from me?"

Cuddy sighed. Her face was red and puffy from tears she cried in her sleep. "A lot of things…I got to Ava before Brian…Rachel was there…watching the kids while I was gone. I didn't get to you in time…your dad was there…"

"Cuddy," House said with quiet sincerity, "It has to end. You can't…keep doing this to yourself."

"God," she laughed through her tears, "That's what you said in my dream."

"Then I'm right, even in your subconscious," he said, smiling.

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her entirely and feeling her sink into him.

"You had the chance to save Ava?" he asked.

"Yea. I did. It felt good."

"And me?"

"You were already hurt, but I was trying to get you to leave."

"Did I go?"

"Not until after I was hurt. Then you said that…we couldn't stay there anymore."

He nodded, "It's true."

"Yea, it is," she nodded, enjoying the feeling of his chest against the side of her face.

She could feel the vibration of his voice when spoke, and hear the thud of his heart against her flattened ear.

"You have…no right to feel guilty for these things that you didn't do…you did nothing to cause that pain," he told her.

"It isn't guilt," she answered. "I just feel like I should have done something to stop it."

"Which sounds…remarkably similar to guilt. You are not to blame for the horrible actions of selfish people. When Dad started beating me, you probably weren't even in kindergarten yet. By the time I left home, you were still a kid. There was nothing you could do to stop anything that happened to us."

"I know"

"We don't need saving anymore. Not from that stuff…not from the past. "

She snuggled closer as he held her more tightly.

He breathed in deeply, "I haven't had a single nightmare or felt like shit about everything that happened with Dad since we talked to Mom about it. Ava's doing well, she is going to be fine. I…have left my childhood behind…I left that room I was stuck in. You need to leave the room too."

"I know"

"Good. I know I give you shit about protecting us…and you do. But when the zombies come, you won't have to fight them alone."

She smiled, "Good to know."

"Now get your fat ass back in bed, it's too damn cold for me to sleep by myself."

"You _could_ turn the AC down."

"I like the air cold, and my bed warm," he leered.

They were settling into bed, getting comfortable and he said, "So you paid me a visit? In your dream?"

"Yea. I did."

"How'd I look?"

"Adorable"

"Was I little?"

"No. You said you were leaving for college in a few months."

"Did I make a pass at you?"

Cuddy chuckled, "Kind of"

"Good for me. I think in all universes, and dream worlds, for all time…I will always hit on you."

"You were sweet."

"Did I come before I even unzipped?"

She elbowed him.

"What?" he asked, "You're really hot. It's still a struggle to hold off."

"Idiot," she snickered.

"So…wait…if I didn't come before I unzipped, does that mean…we did it?"

"Some things really don't change"

"Oh my god, we did! You cheated on me with younger me," he teased. "Tell me about it."

"I didn't sleep with you. You were under age."

"Only you would be so concerned with rules in a dream! If I was going to college, I wasn't _that_ young. Did you at least kiss me?"

"I did."

"Freak, I feel so…used," he teased, unable to hide his chuckle.

"It wasn't that kind of kiss. It was sweet. Innocent."

"Innocent?" he groaned, "I must have been so disappointed."

She rolled over, facing him, took his face, kissed him chastely, just as she had in his dream. "Are you disappointed?" she asked.

"No," he smirked, "not disappointed, but…always hoping for more."

"Then be glad you're not seventeen anymore!" she said.

"I am…always glad I'm not seventeen anymore. That was a shitty year."

He leaned closer, caught her lips more sensually in a longer, deeper kiss.

"You could have at least let me feel you up," he teased.

"I promised you that I'd reward you for your patience," she said as she took his hand, lifted her nightshirt and placed his hand on her breast. "I'm a woman of my word."

"I've always admired that about you."

"Honesty or boobs?"

"Both," he smirked. "You're the whole package. You're honest, have great boobs…you have…honest boobs."

"There's my poet again."

"So what line did I use?" he asked as he casually teased and fondled her.

"You told me your parents weren't home and asked me to make you feel better."

"Classic," he bragged. "And actually…my parents aren't home now either…and…I'd love for you to make me feel better."

She smiled, "You're older now, I should expect a better warm-up line."

"Should expect or do expect?"

"Should. But, you feel really good, so I'll take the recycled line."

"I'm the whole package too, you know," he commented.

"Great hands, amazing lines, and the ability to stave off orgasm until after you unzip."

House chuckled, "I can almost get my boxers off now too."

"Wow…that is…really impressive. It is also…why we usually do it with your boxers still on."

They were joking, teasing, steadily moving forward in their physical exploration until their clothes were removed, bodies fully aroused, minds engaged by their act of love. They were quiet, whispering because it was silent that night, and their children were only a few rooms away, and because of the nearly sacred nature of the connection that they shared. The symbiosis of their compassion allowed two people who had difficulty showing how much they cared, to openly care; and people who found it almost impossible to accept compassionate support, able to welcome it.

For them, giving and receiving compassion required the utmost trust, but became as natural to them as their physical expressions. House loved the way she'd softly whimper at times like those, when she had to be quiet. When they were able, she would often loudly say the most tantalizing things, moaning and screaming in ways he couldn't script more perfectly in his most elaborate fantasies, but he loved the way she'd act when she had to restrain her reactions as well.

As she quivered underneath him, she tried desperately to be soundless, but one pant, one deep inhale, continued after her lungs must have been filled, and resulted in a tiny, uncontrolled moan that gasped from the back of her throat and was followed by words that were truly whispered, words of breath without any sound from her vocal chords. "Come along with me."

He understood the meaning wasn't sexual. "Wherever you go," he whispered near her ear.

"Stay with me?"

"Without hesitation"

They had long ago stopped justifying the ways they sought comfort. It was very much a part of who they were. People who had hurt and been hurt, people who it sometimes seemed were lucky to survive at all, seeking comfort in each other. Comfort through words, touches and implications. Seeing him enjoying sex, without the pain of wounds from an abusive father, felt reassuring. He wasn't fighting through motions over the pain of broken or bruised ribs, he was chasing and offering pleasure years away from the hurts of his youth in a time where those hurts barely even existed anymore.

She was so filled by her affection for him and lost in the safety of the world they created that her fears and sadness were disappearing into the realms of their present world. When they climaxed together, she pressed her mouth into the bent of her arm to stifle any sounds she might involuntarily leak, and House buried his face in her neck. A brief encounter in the middle of the night between moments of sleep was still just as satisfying and meaningful as all of the others.

She fell asleep, pleasantly sated, and curled around House as she rubbed her hand along his ribs. In her sleep the dreams came again.

_She was walking on a narrow sidewalk and gradually homes faded into recognition on either side of the road. It appeared she was walking in a military family housing complex. There were rows upon rows of identically boring houses. She stopped and turned to the left and began marching up a walkway, automatically knowing the location of her destination, and that she was returning to the right place. She stepped up on the first of three steps, resolute and unafraid to do whatever she had to do. When she reached the top of the steps, she placed her hand on the door knob, and another hand covered hers, refusing to let her open the door. _

"_Don't," he said._

_Cuddy turned, looked up House, again the seventeen year-old version of himself. _

"_We got out," he said, looking up at the building with distaste. "Don't go back in."_

"_I was worried about you."_

"_Don't worry about me, I'm out here with you. If you go in…I'll have to follow you to make sure you're OK…and I don't want to go back in."_

_She looked at him, thoughtfully, "You're right. If I'm in there…you'll go back in too."_

"_Of course I will," he smiled a gentle and youthful smile she had never seen on him, "I'll always look out for you."_

"_I know you will."_

"_You do it for me. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" he asked, "When you really care about someone?"_

"_Yea, it is."_


	37. Distances

_A/N-Hey! Thank you all for your responses, particularly those about the last chapter, I was definitely nervous about that one, so I'm glad it worked. Thanks to all who reviewed this last one: IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, OldSfFan, suzmum, JLCH, ikissedtheLaurie, TheHouseWitch, jaybe61, CC, Josam, ClareBear14, Boo's House, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl, CaptainK8, LiaHuddy, southpaw2, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, LapizSilkwood, BJAllen815 and Mon Fogel._

_Still coming up on the end here, a couple of chapters left. I will post the new story tomorrow. I may be late posting this fic on Friday due to the Thanksgiving holiday.  
_

_*Thanks to BJAllen815 for your correction  
_

* * *

_**-The day of House's original interview at PPTH-**_

"_OK, I'll take it," House said as he flung the door to Cuddy's office open and limped heavily into the room, sour, angry and drugged. _

"_Take what?" Cuddy scoffed from behind her desk._

"_The job," he sneered as if the answer was obvious._

"_You are eight hours late for your interview. The one I set up for you with me and the other members of our hiring committee. I'm not the Monarch of Princeton-Plainsboro. We follow procedures here to ensure proper hiring practices…equity…"_

"_That's very impressive, I said I'd take it."_

"_You're lucky I was even still here for the day."_

"_I didn't think you'd be anywhere else."_

"_I don't know if I can offer it anymore since you can't even show up on time for an interview."_

"_My fucking leg hurts," he practically yelled. "Is it possible that you of all people are somehow unaware of that?" _

"_Sit down," she said softly, walking over to him to take his arm and help him to a chair._

"_Don't touch me," he said coldly, "Don't ever touch me."_

_She put her hands out to the side. "You said your leg hurt. I was trying to help you. Had you shown up for the interview when you were scheduled, there would have been other people here, so you wouldn't have to fend off my unwanted sexual advances," she replied with irritation. _

"_I'll make a note of that," he said as he almost fell back into his chair and sighed with relief that he was no longer standing. _

"_Are we going to be able to work together, Dr. House? Let's just put it all on the table and be honest with each other."_

"_What do you mean…together? I thought it was my department."_

"_It would be. But you'd answer directly to me. All department heads do. And, honestly, many people here…or more accurately almost everyone else here, thinks that a diagnostics department is a waste of money, and they want nothing to do with it. I want to start it, and I want you to run it. In fact, I'm not sure if it's worth starting if I don't have you."_

"_You're flattering me because you feel guilty."_

"_Fine. I do feel somewhat guilty," she nodded, "but that's not why I'm saying it. I'm saying it because you are the most brilliant medical mind I have ever encountered. Right now…that brilliance is being wasted."_

_He studied her face, waited for qualifiers or a verbal jab. She stared at him, her face open and approachable._

"_I've been honest, upfront. Can you be?" she asked. _

"_I want the job," he answered. "And you don't have to feel guilty."_

"_Stacy called me after she-"_

_House interrupted loudly, "I'll be honest about the job. That's all you get. I don't want to talk about her. I don't want to talk about…" he squinted and studied her momentarily. "I don't want to talk about…personal matters."_

_Cuddy nodded, "Believe me, all…personal matters…are long forgotten."_

"_And yet…we're talking about them."_

"_No," she said coolly, "We aren't. We're talking about work."_

"_Fine"_

"_We'll have to reschedule the interview with the committee."_

"_Why? They know what they're getting. I have a history of being fired from almost every job I've had. You are probably the only human being with a job to offer that wants me to take it…in or out of medicine. I'm rude, socially inept and completely lack both a decent bedside manner and tact. I don't interview well. What I am…is very good at solving puzzles. I'm also willing to work for the salary you offered…a pretty modest offering for a great medical mind."_

"_Your other…qualifications…tend to hurt your bottom line."_

"_You know I'll bomb any interview you set up. If you want me to work for you, you'll have to make it happen without me interviewing."_

"_I'll see what I can do."_

"_Good"_

"_I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of smoothing over to keep you employed."_

"_Any chance of…oh, I dunno…doubling the salary so that it's close to what I deserve?"_

"_None"_

"_Any chance of doubling the time off?"_

"_Absolutely not. I can offer you the package I sent over to you. I want you to run the department, but I'll cut it or try to find someone else if I have to. My funds for this project are limited. And my hiring committee…HR…the board…some people in accounting…other department heads…they all think hiring you is one, gigantic mistake. They all think you…will be my downfall."_

"_OK," he shrugged. "I'll take it."_

* * *

_After House left, Cuddy's phone rang. It was her sister, who noticed after a few seconds of conversation that something clearly wasn't right. "What is it? What's wrong?" Julia asked._

"_I just…took the first step toward something new. Something that could completely be a hallmark of my career. Something innovating and daring."_

"_That's…great. Congrats."_

"_Don't congratulate me yet. I said I started something new, but even a trip to hell begins with one step. I'm pretty sure I just made either the absolute best…or absolute worst…decision I've ever made."_

* * *

House and Cuddy woke to the sounds of both of their cell phones chirping alerts. They each rolled and stretched to their bedside tables, finding their phones and retrieving identical messages from Kate, "Get Up!"

The couple walked sleepily out to the living room where their two children were playing with all of the energy that their parents seemed to lack at that hour.

"I need a favor," Kate asked. "Mel and I are doing the whole…civil union thing, can you guys come? We want you to be the witnesses, and we want the kids there."

House and Cuddy both stared with a look of shock, awe and tiredness. He looked at Cuddy and said, "Is this another one of your dreams?"

Cuddy barely shrugged and shook her head, "I honestly can't even tell."

"It's on the way to the airport. Well…sort of. At my old bar. A quick drive across the river into Jersey…a ceremony, and then off to the airport with plenty of time. You don't have to check in for your flights until 3," Kate said.

"Where's Mel?" Cuddy asked. "Please tell me you asked her already, and this isn't a surprise."

"It's not a surprise. No one really asked, we just decided," Kate answered.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" House asked.

"Oh hell yea," Kate answered. "I know it's last minute, this is just how I do things. We got a license before we went to see you guys at the beach…thought we might fly back in a few months…but then we weren't sure if you guys could come, so we figured…what the hell."

They looked at Ava, evidence of the last minute decisions Kate often made.

"I can't do this without you guys," Kate answered honestly. "I really want you there. Plus I don't think House will believe it unless he sees it."

"That…is true for both of us," Cuddy answered. "I…want to go. I need some time to get ready, and we'll have to do it this morning, so there's no chance we'll be late for our flight."

"I'm in," House answered.

Cuddy zipped off to get ready while Kate helped the kids to find something to wear for the ceremony. After she left the kids in their own rooms to dress, Kate found House drinking coffee and looking at her suspiciously.

"Why the look?" Kate asked.

"You are sure?" he questioned.

"Absolutely"

"You know this means that the goal is to remain faithful to one woman. Preferably the one you exchange vows with."

Kate smirked, "I've been faithful to one woman for five fucking years, House. You've suspected me of cheating several times now, but it's never been true."

"I know"

"You'll always see me as that single girl who's just looking for fun, won't you?"

"No. I just…worry you may run around…and I try to stop it before it happens, rather than picking up the pieces. It's proactive. I…don't want you to end up falling apart again. You weren't happy. Especially right before you met her. You weren't having fun anymore."

"No…I wasn't."

"And now you're OK."

"I'm better than OK," Kate answered with a smile. "I'm not going to fuck it up."

"I know. I just know…how I'd be if my shit came crashing down."

"When I was single, I played like I was single. And once I was committed, I played like I was committed."

"Oh, shit, I forgot," House said, hanging his head with sadness.

"What? What's wrong?" Kate asked.

"Arlene…she's gonna be heartbroken when she finds out her chances with you are gone."

* * *

Walking into the old bar was like stepping back in time. Nothing had changed inside, except for the disappearance of Kate. Customers complained when the new owners tried to change things, and eventually, everything went back to the way it always was.

It was morning, so the heavy wooden chairs were upturned over the tables, and stools were flipped on the bar. There was still a crappy little stage in the corner with the very same piano that had been there since House worked there with Kate. Cuddy took the kids over to one of the tables, flipped the chairs down onto the ground and said, "This is where I sat when I came here and saw your dad again for the first time in years." She sat down, pulling her children near her. "He was right up there behind the bar. He looked so unbelievably handsome, even though I wasn't sure if I should see him or not…and I was still sad and angry and frustrated…but seeing him again, I could remember the way I used to feel about him. It was a hard thing to forget."

"What did you say to him? Did you walk up to the bar and say, 'Hey Handsome,'" Jack asked in his most feminine voice.

"He came and found me. Trapped my chair so it didn't slide right. Made me mad within seconds of seeing him again. He made a smart assed comment about how many yards away from me he was supposed to stay…because for a while…he wasn't supposed to talk to me…and then…he asked why I was here."

Cuddy's eyes drifted up to the front, where House was behind the bar just as he had been on the many mornings when she saw him open. There was a brief window of time when the two of them existed in a world that was largely without medicine, when they worked there in the bar while they both hid from life for a bit, while still living right in the middle of everything.

She pointed out features of the place to her children, sharing memories of their lives at that time. When Kate came to take the kids, House crept up behind Cuddy and wrapped an arm around her, "Nice story time you were sharing with the kids."

"I liked it here. We had some good times."

"That we did. I was actually up there…remembering some of the times you didn't tell the kids about."

Cuddy smirked up at him over her shoulder. "Which times are those?" she asked innocently.

"Like…when Kate almost caught us having sex behind the bar after closing…or when we had our first date after we became parents again and you devoured me in Kate's office…those kinds of times."

"Oh…those…" she smirked, "We'll keep those to ourselves."

"Right," he nodded. "I mean…it's all on my blog, but we won't talk about it, you know…verbally."

"Your blog, huh?"

"Yea. Details decades of the finest carnal acts."

"Must you constantly paw at my daughter?" they heard Arlene say from the far corner.

"Must you constantly nag my wife," House answered. "I would have refrained had I known we were under surveillance from the Department of Intimacy Suppression."

"Be careful," Arlene warned, "there's talk of renaming our department to the Bureau of Ballbusting…and you would be my first assignment." Arlene whispered the word 'ballbusting' with some discretion, but grinned victoriously.

"Mom!" Cuddy interjected.

"Of which you will immediately be promoted to Queen," House countered.

"Bureaus don't have queens, they have chiefs," Arlene corrected.

"No," Cuddy said, shaking her head, "We're here for a wedding. Let's just put your whole never-ending feud on pause until after it's over."

"Why are you here?" House asked Arlene.

"Celia's performing the ceremony. She invited me."

"As her _date_?"

"Gregory, just because you have a chronically physical, almost adolescent, look on interpersonal relationships doesn't mean we all do. Celia and I are companions of sorts, but not every companionship has to be reduced to something that is based on or involves physical intimacy."

"If there's no sex, what's the point?" House asked, both parties catching glares from Cuddy, who was grateful when Kate called House to come to the back.

"I'm looking forward to moving closer," Arlene said when only she and her daughter remained.

"Mom, I can't have you and House constantly bickering every morning when I wake up."

"Oh, please. Greg and I…like each other. We bicker…but it's only because neither of us is able to come up with anything nice to say. Your father and I bickered…but it was with love."

Cuddy physically stepped back.

"I will…attempt…to give you and Greg space, but I need to be closer to my grandchildren."

"OK," Cuddy said with a forced smile that showed she didn't believe Arlene's words.

"I'm alone, Lisa," Arlene stated with frightening honesty. "Julia's kids don't need me around. Now that Julia has that new job…anyway. I figure I have a few years left. I'd like to spend them with a friend. See my grandkids. See my daughter and her irritating husband too."

"Oh, Mom," Cuddy answered, reaching her hand out for Arlene's arm.

"Please," the proud old woman said, jerking her arm away, "I'm not some…feeble elderly woman who needs your sympathy. I'd just rather cook for two than one. Have someone to talk about the newspaper with."

"OK," Cuddy answered, "Sounds good."

Cuddy started to walk away and then Arlene said, "I guess your little friend Kate won't be chasing your skirt anymore."

"Mom," Cuddy said, "it has never been like that. Didn't you just say that not all relationships have to be physical? Didn't you just berate House for following that exact line of thought?"

"They're lucky," Arlene said, ignoring Cuddy's comment. "Kate and Melanie."

"You think?" Cuddy asked, surprised.

"They've had really good mentors to watch. To show them how a real marriage should work."

"Mom," Cuddy began, flattered and touched, "Thank you, I-"

"Oh please," Arlene interrupted, "is it really a compliment? You've just both managed to be married to one of the two most…unmarriable people on the planet without killing each other. I suppose in some way you could consider it a compliment if you _really_ look."

Cuddy looked away, internally rebuking herself for believing that a compliment from her mother could come without some sort of underlying barb. "Thanks anyway, Mom," Cuddy answered. "In a way, it was a compliment…I may be unmarriable…but apparently I have a knack for being married…and finding compliments, hidden in insults."

Jack appeared from the side, "Mom, Aunt Mel needs your help with something. She's back in the kitchen."

Cuddy smiled at her mother, walking past her son and gently tussling his hair before she left. Jack quickly fixed his hair and sat down by his grandmother, gesturing for her to take a seat. "Grandma…we have to talk," Jack stated seriously.

"Oh do we, Jack?"

"Yes," he said, loudly blowing air out of his lungs.

"Is something wrong?"

"Sort of. I'm really excited for you to come live near us."

"Well, I am too. I'm excited to see more of you. See what you're doing at school…"

"I'm happy about that too."

"Well then, what's wrong? You're like your mother, worrying over nothing. Planning for every problem."

"Grandma, I love you very much, but you're making Mom sad."

"Don't be absurd."

"I'm not being that," Jack answered honestly, "but…you're a little mean sometimes. You tell her what she does wrong a lot. You don't tell her she's a good mom, and she's the best mom ever."

"Lisa knows how I am and I know how she is. It's how it's always been."

Jack shook his head, "Dad seems to like you fighting with him. But…it still makes mom sad."

"Is that really how it looks to you?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "You don't have to be _really_ nice. Just don't tell her she's a bad mother, or bad at being a wife, or bad at being a daughter. She tries really hard to be good at that stuff. She knows you think she's a good doctor. And she knows you think she's really smart, and she's really good at her whole job. She knows you don't think all bad stuff."

"Of course I don't think all bad stuff."

"But she tries really hard to be good at the other stuff too. Just as hard as she tries to do good at work."

"Boy, you just don't get it. She doesn't take that seriously. I'm just her nutty mother."

"That's not true," Jack said, widely shaking his head. "She thinks you mean it."

"Well, I think maybe you're feeling sensitive to things that aren't there."

"I'm not the smartest one in our house, but I'm usually right about how people feel. And I always know when Mom's sad. Just like I know you feel a little sad now about what I told you."

"That's ridiculous," she said, her eyes less certain than her voice.

"I guess," he replied, unconvinced. "But if you'd come down to stay with us, it would be a lot nicer if you could do that one little thing."

"I don't know how to talk to Lisa without offering constructive criticism."

"What's constructive criticism mean?"

"Things…that help her to do better."

"Oh," Jack said, taking time to think. "Do you really think that saying she's not marriable is helping her do better at something?" Jack's question was sincere, not sarcastic in the least.

"Yes"

"What?" Jack pressed.

"I think you think too much."

"Maybe. But it would be cool if you could talk to her without all of that criticism, if it's construsive or not."

"Constructive."

"Yea, that. It's like Dad said that one day, when Ava and I kept fighting because we couldn't agree on what to watch on TV, 'If you can't act half decent to each other for ten friggin' minutes, go to your room and fight where I don't have to hear it…or at least fight over something that matters.'"

"Your father…told you to fight about something that matters?"

"Yea," Jack nodded.

"So what did you do?"

"Well, Ava asked what we should argue about. He said we should talk about cloning for something to do with extra body parts."

"Really? Your father expects you to have an opinion on ethical issues like cloning?"

"Sure…after he told me what cloning was."

"And what was your…five year-old opinion on cloning?"

"I told him I don't want extra arms sitting around. And if something happened to this arm, I'd get a new robot arm with wires inside instead of a new copy of my old boring arm. I could use that hand to pick up hot stuff out of fires and it wouldn't hurt."

"I like the way you think," Arlene nodded. "So you guys were done fighting then? Your dad's suggestion helped?"

"Sort of. Dad and Ava talked for a long time about whether or not it was a good idea to have extra copies of us around, I got bored. Since Ava was so busy talking about it with Dad, I watched what I wanted on TV."

"And you say you aren't the smartest one."

"Sometimes I come up with good stuff," Jack nodded.

"OK. I'll try…to offer a little less constructive criticism."

"Thanks Grandma. Now I'm _really_ excited you are coming," Jack said as he hopped off of the chair and went to find his family.

* * *

The ceremony was short and sweet. Celia gave them advice much like what she had given House and Cuddy years earlier. There wasn't an ounce of nervousness or hesitation in Kate or Mel as they exchanged vows and rings and made a relationship that had been committed for a long time a little more official.

It seemed like a fitting end to their trip to the US. They visited the place where they got married, the place where they began family life, and finally visited the place where they had begun this stretch of their journey together. It was a journey that originally started in a book store far away, nearly a lifetime ago, was renewed years later in a hospital, and was reentered for the final time the night Cuddy walked into a bar.

A few hours after the ceremony, the family was on a plane back home. After a layover, and another plane ride, they were there. They stepped off of the plane in Barbados, feeling as if they had just come home from a very long, and very dangerous journey, and had somehow all survived. They found their home intact, waiting completely undisturbed for them, a little dustier, but waiting for them just the same. That night, in the safety of their home, the whole family slept without a single night terror or bad dream.


	38. Fathers and Sons

_A/N- Thanks to all who have reviewed this story since the last posting: IHeartHouseCuddy, Caitlyn Laurie, BabalooBlue, JLCH, OldSFfan, ammeboss, Boo's House, housebound, jkarr, Mon Fogel (MF), ikissedtheLaurie, jaybe61, Truth, Abby, HuddyGirl, dmarchl, Alex, LiaHuddy, Josam, BJAllen815, and LapizSilkwood._

_I'm going to take a week off of this story while I finish 'Painstaking.' I want to add something here at the end of this story, and I'll need to finish that one before I can do this the way that I want. Expect the next posting of this story next Monday. 'Painstaking' will be posted tomorrow or Wednesday, and finished this week. The original plan was to end this series with this story. I want to do something to provide an ending, but leave it open to a series of shorts about their lives between the ending of this and the epilogue. I think I'd rather do a series of shorts compiled into one story in this universe than another long fic. I'm not quite sure on that yet though._

_Thanks for your patience while I finish up the other story._

* * *

The first day back at work felt ridiculously long for House. It seemed the last few weeks were difficult. The arrival of Frank, the death of his mother, and Ava's visit to Brian Yost all seemed to converge on them at once. He and Cuddy were relatively certain they were all lucky to survive. And they all seemed well.

Work was another story. House had a case coming a few days later, and was busy taking care of the things that he hated about work: paperwork, emails and administrative minutia. At the end of the long day, he and Cuddy gathered themselves and left for home.

Kate and Mel were watching the children that afternoon while House and Cuddy finished up work and made the short walk back. As they grew closer, they heard the sounds of the piano. It wasn't refined or sophisticated, but it was melodic and pleasant.

When they walked into the living room, they saw Kate, and she wasn't playing. She was sitting on the sofa next to Mel, Ava beside them, and they were staring into the corner of the room toward the source of the music. House was baffled, wondering if they allowed someone to come into their home and sit at his piano. He looked around the corner, and saw his son sitting there on the bench. Jack looked so tiny in front of the piano alone, his head barely visible over the instrument. Cuddy sat down next to her daughter on the sofa to listen, and House slowly approached the boy.

He braced his cane against the corner and slid onto the bench next to his son. The song the child was playing was beautiful, imperfect and unpracticed. Cuddy felt the beauty was in the imperfection, a song that was both childlike and full of feeling. After a few minutes of listening, House rested his hands on the keys and began playing along. Jack smiled up at his father and then returned his attention back to the keys.

The boy was simply amazing. He was learning, feeling out the sounds and the keys and learning what he liked, but for someone who had barely played before, it was astounding. When Jack finished his song, he looked at his father, "Your turn," Jack said, "You make up one."

House nodded, thinking for a moment before moving his hands to the keys and playing a sadder, deeper song.

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" Mel asked Cuddy.

"Did you guys teach him?" Cuddy asked.

"I showed him some basics a while back, and he practices some days," Kate answered, "But Jack said House taught him."

"House wasn't teaching him," Cuddy answered.

"He sat down right after he woke up," Mel answered, "And he played through until lunch. He started with the stuff Kate has been showing him, just little songs…nothing complicated. This morning he started playing that…and didn't stop. He got up to eat and use the bathroom, that's it. Then went right back to playing. All day. He's hooked. After he played all of the songs that he knew, he started making up stuff."

Cuddy and Ava made dinner, chatting about the day as Jack and House played in the background. It was a fun evening, with food, family and easy relaxation. No surprise visitors, no tragedies, no troubling people from the past.

After dinner, once Kate and Mel left, House and Jack played again while Cuddy and Ava went for a walk to the beach. Jack began to tinker with a song that he had heard his father play before. House was impressed by his son's memory and ability to execute the melody from the sounds in his head. Jack looked up at his dad and said, "That song is sad."

House nodded, "I guess."

"Why? What made you think of it?"

House sighed, again with serious matters, he depended on honesty with his children. "It was when I was much lonelier," he replied.

"Before me and Ava?" Jack asked.

"Yup," House answered. "When your mom was gone too."

"Why are so many things sad?" Jack asked.

House sighed, "I don't know. I know that…for me, the sad parts went on for a long time. Then…I really, really knew how much I liked the not sad parts."

"I get tired of so many things being sad. It hurts."

"Yes, it does. But we're lucky. We have tons of not sad stuff in our lives."

"I know. It's just other stuff, outside stuff." Jack shrugged as he tinkered on the piano.

"When did you practice?" House asked Jack.

"Today mostly. Sometimes on Wednesdays with Aunt Kate."

"Aunt Kate taught you?"

"A little. You taught me mostly," Jack answered.

"Me?"

"I've been watching you for my whole entire life," Jack answered.

"We had no idea you were interested in music. Why didn't you tell me you wanted to learn to play?" House asked.

"I don't know," Jack shrugged. "I don't know if I even really want to play. I just…sat down to get the sad out."

"What do you mean?"

"Nana died…I miss her kinda."

"Me too," House nodded.

"Plus Ava was sad, from that guy Brian. You were sad about your parents."

"We're OK now."

"I know. But I feel it when everyone's sad, and sometimes, I still feel sad after the sad stuff is over. So I played songs about the things I didn't say."

"I get that," House nodded, playing a few notes, and then letting Jack play a few, going back and forth between them.

They were taking turns between father and son, and House began leading his son to happier sounds. Jack followed, and the boy's mood was obviously responding. "You can use the music to express how you feel," House said, "Sometimes it can help bring you out of something too…help you to feel better when you don't feel so great."

* * *

House went to sleep that night after enjoying the new connection he felt with his son. Shortly after he went to sleep, he began to dream.

_"Grab me a beer, would you, boy?" House heard as he became aware of his surroundings._

_His dad was standing at the end of a small, concrete slab porch next to a charcoal grill. House recognized the home, it was the place where his dad was stationed when things were still good. A few months after they moved from this place, everything between House and his dad went downhill._

_"Get one for yourself too," John offered._

_House looked through the patio door, but refused to go inside._

_"This was a good place, wasn't it?" John asked, the smile looked strange on his face._

_"Yes sir," House replied automatically._

_"You want a steak?"_

_House stared at his dad. It had been so long since he'd even looked at him._

_"Quit your staring, Nancy," John said with a grin._

_"Now I feel like I'm home."_

_"Don't be so sensitive, you know I'm joking."_

_"Are you?"_

_"Yes. Kind of. Someone had to toughen you up."_

_"If that was your goal…well done. You toughened me up all right. Tried to beat the human right out of me."_

_"Still so damn dramatic."_

_House leaned against the siding of their home, watching his dad, feeling the emergence of old emotions._

_"You were like that son of yours, ya know it?" John asked. "Music and asking people if they were OK. Especially your mother. You were always asking her if she was OK…worried about whether she was happy."_

_House looked momentarily concerned, like he wanted to hide his children, as if he didn't even want his dad to know they existed. House definitely didn't like his dad talking about them. He was always grateful that John House was dead before they were born._

_"You'll have to be careful, he'll be some kind of whiny little sissy."_

_"Do you honestly think I'd care if he was?"_

_"What? A sissy?"_

_"Yea"_

_"You should. All that music and painting? Where in the hell is that going to get him? Fix it now, before it's too late."_

_"It's part of what I love about him."_

_"You can cut that love crap now, that won't help him."_

_"Jack…will probably have more girlfriends than you and I combined," House smirked. "He's a good looking kid, and already good with girls. Trust me. But…I really don't care either way. He's strong. He's…brave. He's not afraid to feel things that most people can't even think about."_

_"Is that what you think?" John scoffed._

_"It's what I know. Jack…will be twice the man I am."_

_"That little girl though. What a shame…what that animal did to her."_

_House stared at his dad, "So you suddenly think abuse is wrong?"_

_"Of course it is. They outta string him up. End his miserable life."_

_Staring in the distance, remembering the pains that he once felt at the hands of the man in front of him, House said, "What about what you did to me?"_

_"What do you mean? I didn't abuse you."_

_"You didn't?"_

_"Of course not. Believe me, you were out of control. I did you a favor. Tough love. Not this…hand holding, heartfelt, chitchat with your kids bullshit."_

_"I couldn't hurt them…whether you call it tough love or abuse."_

_"Then you're still a sissy…after all of that hard work I did. If you can't do what you have to do to be a good father, then you don't deserve children anyway."_

_"Maybe not," House said, unwilling to be bullied into an argument.  
_

_In real life, this was where Cuddy so often came in. She would defend him, his worth as a man, a dad and a human being. But she wasn't in this dream. He was going to let it go, let the old man believe what he wanted, but somehow, he felt he was letting her down.  
_

_"I'm a great dad," House said. "I admire my kids. They're both brave, strong, brilliant. They're both so unique. They're both amazing. I want to be a dad that helps them become…even more amazing instead of trying to prevent it."_

_"That sounds like your wife's new age, yoga, meditation crap."_

_"Yes…accepting people as they are…wanting them to become more themselves…that's clearly some eastern philosophy propaganda," House replied sarcastically._

_"Do you know what it's like, boy?" John asked. "To learn that your son, the son you are so proud of, isn't your own."_

_"You had to have known that."_

_"Believe me, denial can get you through a lot of nights."_

_"That is true."_

_"I was proud of you. You once wanted to be like me. Did you know you said you wanted to be a Marine?"_

_"No…I don't remember that."_

_"You said it. When you were a boy…probably six or seven. There was a time when you admired me. Then you started thinking you were smarter than me," John remarked angrily.  
_

_"I didn't stop admiring you because I thought I was smarter. I stopped admiring you when you forgot that I was your son."_

_"I guess you weren't"_

_"Your choice"_

_"No, I didn't make that choice. Your mother made that choice."_

_"Ava isn't even remotely biologically related to me, but she's my child. All of the evidence in the world, blood tests, DNA swabs, signed affidavits…nothing could convince me otherwise. You made the choice to no longer treat me like your son."_

_"Well, now you met your real daddy. Some smart guy…probably fits your image of what a dad should be."_

_"Frank's not my dad. Never could be. I don't take abandonment lightly. I remember that you kept me and Mom in your home when you could have tossed us out in the streets. I remember you…putting together that trike when I was four. I remember you when I graduated high school. You said, 'Nice going, you aren't a complete moron after all,'" House smirked at the memory. "You may have felt like I wasn't your son anymore. But I never believed that you weren't my dad."_

_"Do you hate me?" John asked. "Do you blame me for everything wrong that's ever happened?"_

_"No," House answered. "Not at all. I already decided I was done reliving that. I knew it was time to let it go. That includes the stuff I wanted to let go…and the resentment and blame too. We aren't locked in that bullshit anymore."_

_"You're gonna forget about me?_

_"Not at all. You helped to make me. And I learned a lot from you, the good and the bad. I learned about…how I want to treat my kids, about loyalty and duty…about exactly who I want to be…and who I am."_

_"So since you've moved on, why are you here?"_

_House inhaled, looked at his dad and said, "I wanted to say goodbye. In life, we never had that chance."  
_

_Holding out his hand, House waited. John relented after only a second, shaking the hand of the man he raised as his own son._

* * *

House snapped out of his dream and woke in his bed. Cuddy was already up, sitting on the porch with her morning coffee just as the sun was beginning to light the sky. "What are you doing up already?" he asked.

"Just thinking," she answered with a welcoming smile as she tucked her legs up against her body so that he could sit on the end of the lounge chair she occupied. "Jack…is quite the musician."

"That he is," House said, waiting quietly for a few moments before speaking again. "What's on your mind, Cuddy?"

"I love it here," she said. "I love our home far away from it all."

"Me too"

"I still find it funny that we tried so hard to run away. Went so far to protect our family, to protect each other. And it still came after us. Then we had to run away from running away."

"We did."

"After all of that…insanity…we aren't any worse off. Not really."

He searched her face, somewhat amused, "No, we aren't."

"We aren't safer because we ran far away and made a new life…we're safer because of each other. I can't…even really imagine being without this anymore."

"Good," he answered with a smirk. "You're stuck with me now."

"I guess after everything that's happened, I just feel a little sentimental. Grateful for what we have."

"Me too," House answered.

"Are you OK? I mean…with your mom dying in the middle of all of that…"

"I really am OK, Cuddy. It's weird though. There would have been a time when something like that…Frank showing up, or Mom dying…well…let's just say I wouldn't have handled it well. There would have been a lot of drugs, some insanely reckless behavior. I had a rough time for a minute. You snapped me out of it. We handled it and moved on."

"We did," Cuddy nodded.

"Almost surreal, isn't it? Me…making it through something like that without total self-destruction."

"Kind of"

"Since I forgot to do the usual insane stuff back when everything was going wrong…I guess I should try to make up for it now. Wanna call some hookers and get high?"

"You want me to do that with you?" she asked, amused. "How romantic."

"What fun would it be without you?"

"Sorry, I'm not really in the mood for hookers and drugs today," she responded, patting his face with her hand.

"Yea," he mused, "me neither."


	39. One Night

_A/N-Thanks to all of the reviewers since the last posting-IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, OldSFfan, partypantscuddy, LapizSilkwood, housebound, Boo's House, JLCH, dmarchl21, Suzieqlondon, BJAllen815, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, ClareBear14, CaptainK8, TheHouseWitch, Amanda, Sara and Jane Q. Doe. (Thanks also to all of those people who followed and commented on Painstaking...it was really fun to write!)  
_

_OK guys, here's what I'm doing. I'm still ending this fic soon, but I'll start another one in this universe that will be a collection of short stories (I'll run it all as one long story). It will be called 'Recollection,' and will fill in memories from over the years. It will start in a few weeks. I'll update that one when I can (probably once a week) while I write other stories._

_I really want to say thanks to all of the people who have supported this story, you have all complimented me in ways that are truly meaningful to me and I am completely humbled.  
_

_Amanda-that is one of the coolest things I've ever been told…Honestly. Thank you for telling me that. All the best to you and your family!_

_I'll update this one again next Monday, and I'll either start posting my Hurt/Comfort Season 5 fic, or my lighter romance tomorrow or Wednesday…I still haven't decided which one I'm going with._

_*Changed Ethan's last name.  
_

_These last chapters jump ahead in time…_

* * *

_-Twelve years after the return to Barbados-_

"Wish they'd open up the line, right?" he asked from his position as second in the queue.

"Mmm," she answered, refusing to look at him too directly.

"You know those early flights. I'm guessing the counter will open around five, don't you think?"

"I think it's a safe bet that it will open before our flight leaves," she responded curtly. "Beyond that, it doesn't really do any good to speculate."

She sat on her luggage in front of him. She was first in line because she was the first one there, nearly three hours before her flight was supposed to leave, but he didn't know that. She wanted to go home. What he knew was that, directly in front of him, was an amazingly beautiful woman. Part of what he found most attractive about her was that she looked so stunning in spite of her obvious attempts to avoid looking attractive. She had thick tresses of blond hair that were wild even when tamed, pulled back in a convenient ponytail that was chosen just to keep the hair out of her eyes. Her clothes certainly weren't stylish or flattering, and looked as if she picked them up off of her bedroom floor before putting them on. She had on studious, dark glasses to hide her beautiful eyes and carried a heavy backpack. After all of her attempts to hide it, her beauty was undeniable. He could tell, she wanted to be respected and known for her mind.

He didn't have trouble meeting girls, but he was choosy. He couldn't stand mindless interactions with vapid or unintelligent women, no matter what they looked like. Women usually approached him for dates or to exchange numbers. He thought it wasn't his good looks as much as his confidence. He was in great shape, not tall but fit. His dirty blond hair and brown eyes were a somewhat rare combination and he wore it well. Of course, his clothes were carefully chosen to enhance his looks.

He spent almost twenty minutes trying to get the studious beauty in front of him to say more than a few words, and the only times he could get her to respond, she would say something snide. He tilted his luggage down flat so he could sit on it, facing her from the other side of the single file line. "You're obviously a student," he began, "where do you go to school?"

"In buildings mostly," she answered, bored with his question.

"Where are you headed?"

"Home"

He nodded, at least 'home' was said with longing rather than irritation.

"Where are you from?" he pressed.

She rolled her eyes and didn't answer.

"Wow, I must really intimidate you," he observed.

That got her attention, "Oh please, I'm not intimidated by you in the least."

"Are you sure?"

"You think I'm fooled by your designer clothes?" she asked, turning her attention to him. "I seriously doubt you normally dress like that. That shirt is new."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is. Unless you don't wash your clothing after wearing it."

He looked at his sleeves, he knew that he took off all of the tags, and he looked at himself in the mirror at least ten times before he left.

"There are lines of lint and fur…I'm thinking from a dog…where there used to be stickers on your clothes. You know, those stickers they put on so you can see the sizes even when the garments are folded. It's my guess the one on your jeans said…30x32…right?"

He nodded.

"And the shirt…medium?"

He nodded again.

"The medium is hopeful," she added. "You're a small...but you're hoping that one day you'll bulk up to a medium or even a large." Her tone was mocking, making fun of his efforts at fitness. "You have a few name brand clothes to go out and find…bitches to bang…or something equally demeaning, but really you wear cheap knock offs when you don't have anyone to impress. You want to seem like a world traveler, but you aren't. I'm guessing you've never been out of the country. You're some…New York boy…but not the city…probably some quiet, rural town…living some parochial little existence, but you think you're so much more than that. Right? You think this little trip is going to be a…great broadening of your horizons."

"How did…" he began to answer, but he looked hurt and defeated.

"Your shoes…probably cost twenty bucks…and they're old. So while you splurged on the clothes, you hoped no one would notice your shoes," she said more delicately. "I also…saw your address…you can learn a lot from a passport and a license. You should be more careful."

"What makes you think I'm dying to be some muscle head?"

"Your keys…you have a gym pass on your key ring…it's really worn…the letters are almost scratched off of it."

"Wow. Are you…a detective?"

"Not officially," she answered.

Her expression seemed to soften somewhat, and he thought that maybe she was warming up to him, but just as he had that glimmer of hope, the counter opened up and the airline staff waved her front. "Have a good life," she said before she went up to the counter.

He had never been so instantly attracted to anyone in his life. There was something about this woman that he couldn't ignore, and then he felt complete disappointment when she was gone. He had hoped there was a chance that they'd be on the same flight, but even if he was fortunate enough for that to happen, he doubted that she'd sit anywhere near him. He took the baggage claim tickets from the attendant behind the counter, and went to find his gate. When he reached the end of the counter, he realized someone was keeping pace with him and turned to find the woman he was so intrigued by.

"Where are you flying?" she asked with a look that almost resembled a smile.

"This first flight? Miami," he said hesitantly.

"Me too," she answered.

They continued on together during the long walk to one of the gates in the airport that was farthest away from the ticketing area. When they were almost there, she elbowed him, "You want coffee?"

"Sure," he replied, his confidence in check under the surface because he wasn't sure what to expect from the woman in front of him.

"So, you figured me all out. Let me try with you?" he asked.

"Go for it," she replied.

"You're a student?"

"Yea"

"BU?"

"Nope"

"MIT?"

"Yea," she smirked, "How'd you figure that out?"

"Well…you seem really smart, so I guessed."

"What else?"

"You want people to pay attention to your mind, that's why you dress like that."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's like you're trying to look unattractive."

"Sorry I don't walk around braless in tiny little shirts so you can see my shape or measure my cup size or have my ass cheeks hanging out the back of my shorts like some slutty little cheerleader."

"I didn't mean it like that," he began.

"I completely forgot that it's _my_ job to look good to try to attract a man…because I _need _one. Women can't survive on their own without a man," she lectured sarcastically, "No, you're right, I should definitely put myself more on display for you, primp and per-teee myself up so that some big, strong man can pick me and make me glad to be a woman."

"I didn't say that," he scoffed, for some reason, his confidence refused to allow him to shrink away. The scrappy, feisty woman in front of him was far too good to walk away from. "You made fun of my clothes…mocked my cheap shoes…but you can't take my assessment of you?"

"If only I was beautiful," she sighed mockingly, "if only-"

"I didn't say you weren't beautiful," he interrupted.

For the first time, the woman's mouth gaped open. She was stunned.

"I said you were _trying_ to look unattractive, I didn't say you succeeded. Actually," he continued, "You are…the most beautiful woman I've ever met. And I've never been fond of girls wearing those shorts where their ass hangs out the back."

"Well…I…"

"You want something or not?" the gruff woman behind the counter at the coffee stand barked.

"Whatever size coffee is the largest, with whichever coffee variety has the most caffeine. And that…fruit salad," the girl stuttered back.

"Same," the guy answered, stepping up and holding out enough money to pay for both orders. "You're sitting in my row," he said, pointing at her boarding pass.

They both checked email and phone messages and took care of the things they needed to do before they had to turn off such devices for the flight. When they finally got seated, and found that the seat in between them was unoccupied, he reached out his hand. "Ethan Jordan."

"I know…saw your passport."

"And you are?"

She pondered for a second, and then took his hand in a rough handshake, "Ava."

"So, _Ava_ why are you traveling?"

"Family thing," she answered succinctly.

"What sort of…"

"Why are you traveling? You have a passport…so Miami can't be your final destination."

"I'm going to Barbados."

"Seriously?"

"Yea. I'm a med student at BU. I'm applying to do my residency at this diagnostics center."

"Oh," Ava answered, suppressing a laugh.

"Is that funny?"

"No…is that like going to school in Hawaii? An excuse to live somewhere amazing while pretending to learn?"

"This is the holy grail of residencies…and not because of the location. These two crazy doctors run it. They could both retire, they don't need to work anymore. This brilliant, crippled asshole, he's apparently the best diagnostician in the world. His wife actually runs the place, apparently she's really brilliant in her own right. The doctors and interns in other departments at the center call her a GILF."

"GILF?"

"Grandma-I'd-like-to-fuck…excuse the term…I didn't come up with it. But they say she's the best looking sixty-something they've ever seen. She does all of the cases with him, he says she's the only doctor who isn't a complete idiot. I talked to the woman who took the residency last year. She said it was vicious, but she's never learned so much in her life. They only accept one applicant for the diagnostics program every year."

"So you're no dumbass then." Ava remarked.

"Top in my class. This would be the chance of a lifetime."

"Sounds like it."

"The woman who had it last year told me that she wished she could do it again."

"Lauren Fleischer?"

"Yea," he nodded, "You know her?"

"I met her. I know about the place you are talking about. Both doctors _are_ brilliant. If they can't diagnose it…no one can. And he _is_ a crippled asshole, but…she isn't a grandmother…and, to be perfectly honest, I'm more than a little disturbed that you'd like to fuck her."

"Well…I didn't nickname her that."

"If you want the residency…don't let my baby brother hear that nickname."

"Your brother?"

"Yea…right or wrong, my parents will listen to him…if he doesn't like you, you're screwed."

"Are you feeling OK?" he asked, looking at her as if she had dementia.

"You sure you're smart enough to get this residency?" Ava giggled.

"Wait, who are your parents?" he asked, the expression leaving his face.

"The GILF and the crippled asshole."

"Oh fuck," Ethan answered, looking suddenly concerned.

Ava laughed loudly for the first time, "It's OK. They listen to me too…I think I might like you."

Ethan's concern left his face, "Really?"

"Maybe," she answered, still giggling a bit.

"So, before I embarrass myself anymore, let's talk about you," he said a bit nervously, "What are you studying at MIT?"

"I'm interested in Quantum Biophysics, but no school really offers that, so I'm getting two degrees, Biology and Physics, and I'll study with experts in the field. It's emerging."

"So you're going for a duel major?"

"Duel doctorates. I'll have to do one at a time, but I'll get there."

"What are you…nineteen?"

"Twenty"

"So you're a year or two into your undergrad…you have a lot of school left."

Ava smiled, "I finished my undergrad already. I'm working on my physics doctorate."

This was the part she was used to, it happened twice since she started her doctorate. She met intelligent men with similar interests and then they learned just how intelligent she was, and suddenly their interest in her dried up. She believed they both liked intelligent women, but neither of them were interested in a woman who was _that _brilliant. She was speechless when Ethan actually moved over to the empty seat that was in between them. "That's…amazing," he told her. "So what do you do…in Quantum Biophysics?"

She stared at him for a moment, and she knew what she saw. It was interest. Genuine interest.

"It's sort of boring," she answered.

"I get the biology part…and I know a little about physics. Try me."

"OK," she began.

And he listened for hours. He listened to her hopes in the field, to the descriptions of the basics, and Ava went from cautiously interacting to impassioned sharing of something that was very much a part of her. She hadn't spoken so extensively about her studies with anyone outside of her family. He was interested, he was asking questions, but definitely intelligent enough to comprehend the answers, and by the time they landed, there was definitely something between them.

Their discussion became so in depth that when they landed, they were almost taken off guard, and they certainly didn't have any discussion about what was about to happen next. They were walking down the tunnel to leave, and Ava asked him to stay. She asked him to join her for a night in Miami. She asked him to join her on the private jet that would pick her up the next morning, and she couldn't believe it when he agreed.

They went to dinner, and kept talking all evening, and when he dropped her off at her hotel room to go to his own, she kissed him. Before he tried to leave, he kissed her again. When she found herself taking off his shirt she asked simply, "I'm into this…trust me…I just want to know…is this a…one-time thing?"

He stopped for a moment, pulling back a bit, and said, "I don't work like that."

He looked hurt and sad at the suggestion, and she fell in love. "I just…didn't want to be…misled."

"You aren't being misled," he smiled before he kissed her again.

They each said they thought they'd found something meaningful that night. They each believed that something had changed in their lives when they met.

She felt horribly stupid and taken advantage of when she woke up and he was gone. She got up and got a shower, cursing herself for being so stupid as to believe in romantic notions. Ava was hurt beyond belief, partially because he insulted her intelligence, but even worse was the fact that she willingly exposed her heart.

She wasn't the type to sabotage someone else's career, she'd never mention his behavior to her parents, at least not before they chose an applicant. She steeled herself, knowing that she'd likely be seeing him in the next few days while visiting home, and she easily decided, he'd never know how much he hurt her. She would dig deep, and become the coldest version of herself, laugh off any hint or reminder of their encounter. To her, it simply wouldn't exist.

She wound a towel around her hair and wrapped the large robe around her tiny body, trying to find warmth beneath the thick fuzzy cotton. She walked out of the bathroom to the sound of a low chuckle, "You even wear too much when you get out of the shower?"

Ava stood in the doorway and stared at the man in front of her, who was pulling coffee from a carrier and placing various breakfast foods on the small table in the corner of the room.

"You're here?" she asked with stunned surprise.

"You don't want me to be?" Ethan asked.

She had a momentary thought of keeping her cold persona, of nipping heartache in the bud by avoiding the feelings that could lead to it, but she couldn't do that while looking at him. He was standing in front of her, his shirt buttons incorrectly aligned, hair that he tried to fix that was messed up anyway, and bare feet sticking out from his expensive jeans. "I want you to be," she nodded.

* * *

They rode the private jet to Barbados, and Ava offered him a summary as they landed. "Jack, will always be my baby brother. He's an artist and musician…and an athlete. He looks ridiculously tough…but he's the sweetest guy in the world. Don't ever try to be anything but yourself around him…because he'll know and he hates fake people. I think every girl in the world should want to marry him. I have…a really hard time without him. I feel…like part of me is missing. We have a sister, Rachel…she died and we never had the chance to meet her, but it's like we know her…she's still there…she's still part of the family."

"My Dad," Ava continued, "is all of the things you've said. But he loves his family in ways no one else does. Sometimes he makes me and Jack crazy…he objectifies my mother, since we're older, he says some horrifyingly dirty things in front of us and pretends it's because his mind is growing feeble. Trust me, his mind is not at all feeble. He's…really unique. Sometimes…he can be a real jerk to people outside of our family. But…for all of the bad things…he would die for any of us…in a heartbeat. You have to look below the surface with him…because the amazing things that he does aren't always obvious. He really is a good man…he just doesn't want everyone to know that. He's overcome so much…we joke that nothing will kill him…sometimes I think it's true. I definitely hope it is. If not for his encouragement…I wonder where I'd be."

Ava took a drink, and then went on, "Then there's Mom. There were times that I wished Mom was uglier…or at least wasn't so obviously gorgeous. It sucks when you're twelve and guys at school are talking about your mother. She has always expected the best of me…that's both wonderful and horrible. Without her expectations of me, I wonder where I'd be. If Dad would die for us, Mom would kill for us. The funny thing is, if she wasn't standing next to Dad, everyone would be talking about how brilliant she is. But she's so…confident. She knows she's brilliant…she knows she's a success, and she's powerful in a beautiful way. She takes care of us, for me, she defines successful career woman and mother…and it's hard to do both perfectly, but…she doesn't accept anything less than perfection from herself."

"Really…I want to be like both of them," Ava observed. "I want to be the best of both of them. My best friend is my Aunt Kate. She defines friendship. Loyal to a fault…she keeps every secret…she's a vault. I love her…she's family. My Grandmama Celia and Grandma Arlene live together. They're ancient…my Grandma's…actually not doing well. They keep each other company, gossip…they love each other like sisters. I'm surrounded by…brilliant lunatics…who are all loyal and devoted and true to themselves and those they love to a fault."

"It must have been something growing up with all of them," Ethan replied.

"It was. I was a really lucky kid. I know this is gonna sound…sorta crazy…but…I want what my parents have. My Dad still chases my Mom like she's the college coed he met all those years ago. But…as much as he wants to sound like he objectifies her, he respects and loves her with every cell in his body. Mom pretends to roll her eyes and be offended, but she still whispers to him that he's the best she's ever known. For as calm and cool as she appears…she still loves him with every fiber of her being. My Dad has never bought her flowers, or a box of chocolate, but he has taken my Mom on a date every Wednesday night for as long as I can remember. And every date, she still dresses up like she's going out with someone for the first time…and every date, he tries to pick the perfect place for them to go. They are as in love as they were when they met me."

"Met you?" Ethan chuckled. "That's a funny way of saying it."

"Yea…met me. I was adopted…which is a story for another day…but they rescued me from hell and made me their own. I've been so angry with them from time to time, like most teenagers get for one reason or another…but I have _never_, even in the middle of my most furious anger…told them I wished they weren't my parents. They are the best parents in the world."

"You guys are all really close…and they're gonna hate me."

The plane came to a halt after taxiing. "Just be yourself…my family…notices everything. They're protective…but they really do give everyone a chance. After all, you made me like you when I was determined to hate you…I'm probably the meanest one."

Ethan smiled at her, then looked out of the window and pointed, "Is _that_ your _baby_ brother?"

Ava's expression dissolved into the widest grin Ethan had ever seen."Isn't he adorable?" she asked.

"Cutest terrifying giant I've ever seen," Ethan answered. "Does that mean…those are your parents?"

"Yup. Damn I missed all of them."

"I can't believe it…_the_ House and Cuddy."

"They're just…Mom and Dad," Ava shrugged.

"They look so normal"

Ava chuckled, "I doubt anyone's accused them of that before."


	40. Waiting

_A/N-Thanks to all who reviewed this story since the last posting: IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, Josam, OldSFfan, BabalooBlue, suzmum, JLCH, siddigfan, LoveMyHouse, TheHouseWitch, jaybe61, ammeboss, ikissedtheLaurie, Truth, hfspc, dnkj, KiwiClare, Huddy4Ever, Lau, BJAllen815, Abby, dmarchl21, HuddyGirl, Alex, newdayz, CaptainK8, Suzieqlondon, Jane Q. Doe, LapizSilkwood, and Mon Fogel._

* * *

Jack was not a straight-A student, simply because he had no interest in studies. Jack was brilliant, well-spoken, had a tremendous knack for understanding the way things interconnected in the world. He was, in every way, an artist. His bedroom had long since ceased to look like a bedroom. He had a mattress on the floor in the back corner of the room. One section was littered with paint and drawing supplies, and the entire area had splashes of color on the walls and floor. The other end of his room was occupied by with musical instruments and an eclectic CD collection.

He looked a lot like his mother, which was ironic given their extremes in size. Jack was just a bit taller than his father, but he was solid and athletic, and standing next to his mother, he looked like a giant. The calm confidence that he exuded only served to make him more imposing.

He was extremely fond of both of his parents, even during the battles they fought as he grew. At the beginning of sixth grade, he was often teased. His best friend was his sister, and he openly admitted that he loved his parents. He was a musician and an artist and somewhat small for his size, so he was often a target for other children, although it didn't really seem to bother him much. But then he grew. Cuddy would always swear that one night he went to bed her little boy, and the next morning he woke up the family 'muscle.' Until that point, it was often Ava who would viciously defend him, because although she was small, she was tough. Once he grew, he became an athlete, and the teasing came to a screeching halt.

At sixteen, Jack was smitten with the beautiful daughter of a doctor at the Center, a girl named Dania. The only initial evidence of Jack's crush was a suspicious silence for a normally extroverted young man. As a teen, he was a strange combination of hormonal insanity and sensitive understanding. Kate often said, "If Jack wasn't so good looking, he'd be the guy all of the girls would be friends with, and then refuse to date because they'd want to stay just friends."

Jack burst into Kate's office the day he decided that he was in love with Dania and sat down. Kate smirked up at him as he leaned back in the chair exactly like his father did when there was a problem.

"I'm in love," Jack stated calmly. "I met the girl I'm going to marry one day."

As much as Kate tried to slow Jack down, like his parents, once he made a decision he was hard to dissuade.

Three weeks later when Jack's love for the girl seemed to stick, House decided he should talk with his son. This wasn't the usual talk that parents had with teenaged sons. House and Cuddy's children understood sex and its risks from an early age, so the talk had nothing to do with unwanted pregnancies or disease.

When House walked into the room, Jack was painting in the corner, facing away from the door. "Look, Jack," House began slowly, "Don't get ahead of yourself. I know you are really into this girl…she seems to like you. I just think you need to be careful with yourself…don't…"

"Come on, Dad," Jack griped, "Do we have to do this?"

"This isn't the safe sex discussion twenty-point-two…this is about…making sure you don't get…damaged."

"Maybe I'm already friggin' damaged," Jack grumbled back.

Jack seldom bit back harshly, so it was clear that something was going on. Jack continued to paint, ignoring his father and saying nothing. So House waited in silence. After a few minutes, Jack took two steps back until he dropped onto the bed, covering his eyes with the heels of his hands. "She has a boyfriend," Jack said with deep sorrow. "It's not me."

House squinted and dropped his head, "Heartbreak sucks."

"I don't want to hear about how I'm young and there will be lots of other girls…"

"Do you really think that's what I'm going to say?"

Jack sighed, "No. Probably not."

"It doesn't matter how old you are. When you're a kid, everyone says you're too young to understand, when you're older and people say you are old enough to know better. Fuck 'em. It sucks to get kicked in the nuts, whether you're young and resilient or old and shriveled."

"That's…poetic, Dad," Jack answered sarcastically, but he understood.

From his spot by the door, House looked at what his son had painted and waited while Jack calmed down. When the teen stood to return to his easel, House intervened. "Come on, kid," he said, nodding out toward the kitchen.

Once there, House poured one shot for himself and one for Jack. "First heartbreak, first shot with your old man," House commented, pushing the glass to Jack.

Jack was consumed by his sadness, and didn't bother to consider the strength of the beverage before throwing it back like he'd always imagined a man would. And then he coughed, he hacked and sputtered as his body tried to take on the drink. "What _is_ that?" Jack choked out.

"Whiskey. The only way to go for heartache."

"God," Jack continued to cough.

"You really haven't been sneaking this stuff?"

"No!" Jack answered.

"I just assumed all kids your age did."

House patted his son's back and nodded toward the piano in the living room.

* * *

When Cuddy came home, she walked past House and Jack to the kitchen and she stormed back into the room, "Seriously? Whiskey? You know that is a horrible idea-"

"Just one shot," House defended, "he really needed it."

"I'm not talking about him," Cuddy said, pointing at Jack. Then she rethought and turned to her son, "Hard liquor is not good for you either. I don't want to see you drinking that stuff…it's toxic, and whatever you _needed _it for, alcohol is not the answer to your problems."

"Sorry," Jack answered.

"For Jack it's a bad idea," Cuddy said, "For you," she pointed at House, "it's a _terrible_ idea."

"It was just one shot," House answered.

"Do you have…any idea how difficult it was to get you a liver, given your history?"

Jack and House looked at each other, simultaneously mimicking her like they always did regarding her somewhat miraculous, last minute procurement of a liver a couple of years earlier, "Had to cut it out of the guy myself."

"You're both jerks," Cuddy said, chuckling a bit. "The last one…was perfectly legal…if I have to get another one, then you'll have a reason for your ridiculous suspicions."

"Three shots…in two years I've had three shots. Total. Not daily or weekly, or even yearly…total." House responded. "I'm doing fine. My test results always look great."

Cuddy stiffly smiled and nodded. "I want to keep them looking great."

"I'm still behaving. My son needed me."

"I see," Cuddy smirked.

"Dania's sort of…done with me," Jack confessed.

Sadness crossed Cuddy's face as her arms dropped to her sides, "I'm sorry, Jack. I know you really cared for her."

Jack shrugged. Cuddy walked to his side, leaning her head on his and hugging him. She was often grateful to have children who were willing to accept affection. For years she anticipated the time when they would begin to push her away, but particularly in the privacy of their home, both children almost always allowed a comforting hug in bad times.

"Want something for dinner…you can pick," Cuddy offered. "We'll make your Dad make it since he broke our liquor agreement."

After they decided to wait on dinner, Jack went to his room. House contemplated for a few minutes, and then said, "It _was_ just one shot," as he pulled her over and rested his head against her chest.

"I was just putting on a show," Cuddy teased, "So that Jack didn't start looking for all of the clones I have safely tucked away in my secret laboratory in case we ever need a new liver."

House smiled at her and then said solemnly, "You think he's OK?"

"I think he's hurting. His first love. You never forget those."

"Maybe he can be like me...become a hard core criminal, throw his life away, and then win her back again later."

"Hard core criminal?" she asked as she looked down at the way he was leaning against her.

"It's part of why you find me so irresistible. The convict in me."

"That must be it," Cuddy smirked, "And I was _not_ your first love. I'm sure some...cute girl you knew when you were his age has that privilege."

"You made up for your late arrival in my life by letting me touch your boobs. Automatically puts you higher in the standings."

"I'm sure you touched plenty of _boobs_ before mine too."

"Sure," he nodded, "But you are the place where true love and boob-touching meet."

"You still make me weak in the knees," she said with a smirk.

"Time for Jack to go to bed…isn't it?"

"He usually waits until after the sun goes down."

House pulled her down onto his lap and rested his head against her shoulder. Every heartache he heard about after they reunited, reminded him of how much he missed her at one time in his life, and also reminded him of what he had. "What should we do for him?" House asked.

"Spoil him a little," Cuddy nodded, "Help him get through."

"Hope he handles heartbreak better than his father," House said.

Cuddy opened her mouth, considering a joke about green card brides or benders, but when she saw the look on her husband's face, the one that acknowledged his own insanity, she said, "Jack and you…aren't that different."

"That's reassuring."

"Jack and you aren't that different," she repeated, "but he's surrounded by people who love him. He grew up in a home without John House…"

"…or Arlene Cuddy…"

"Jack…didn't have an infarction…he isn't in constant pain. Jack and Ava's dreams…were supported…their heartbreaks were never written off as unimportant, their successes were never ignored."

"God, we're amazing parents," he bragged jokingly.

"We are! People can point at our rap sheets all they want, but we've had some amazing successes. The Center, the kids, a good marriage…we fixed us…we can fix anything."

* * *

Jack eventually overcame his heartbreak over Dania. The loss that was most difficult for him was when Ava went to Boston to get her PhD. He visited her as often as he could, and met her at the airport every time she came home. A year after his heartbreak, when Jack was seventeen, Ava returned home with someone new.

She descended from the plane, right into the arms of her little brother. Jack easily reached his arms around her and picked her up, whispering, "I miss you so much."

Ava shook her head, "Me too, Jack…trust me."

Ava went next to her parents and greeted them both, they each had a look of pleasant relief that she was home again. "You talk them into moving MIT to Barbados yet?" House asked.

"Sorry, Dad. For some reason…keeping it in Massachusetts."

"Seems like awfully conventional thinking for scientists."

"You brought company?" Cuddy asked, stepping forward and extending a hand to the man who had just gotten off of the plane.

"Ethan Jordan," he said, holding out his hand. "It's nice to meet you…Dr. Cuddy…or Cuddy-House?"

"Just Cuddy. Nice to meet you Ethan," she answered, very professionally.

Ethan looked beyond Cuddy and saw the face of evaluation from both Ava's father and brother.

"We have an applicant for our residency program coming in a couple of days with the same name," Cuddy observed.

"That's me," he nodded, trying to sound unaffected by the six eyes and three sets of furrowed brows that were all focused on him.

"So you just…heard that my daughter was coming home and hitched a ride?" House asked.

"Umm," Ava began, looking more unnerved in front of them than her family was used to seeing, "We met…before we left Boston…and…now we're here."

Ava wove her arm through Ethan's, a symbolic gesture of support, and an obvious way to show her connection without having to define the relationship in words, because she wasn't exactly sure what it was. Jack stepped forward and held out a hand. Ethan took it and braced himself, waiting for Jack to display some show of his physical power, to try to crush Ethan's hand as a warning or a display of manliness.

Jack's grip was firm, but not rough, and not in any way intimidating. Jack was sizing him up but seemed to have no interest in intimidation. Ethan looked up at Ava's little brother and said, "Jack, your sister…talks about you a lot."

Jack seemed to be evaluating in a very impartial way. He looked at his sister and the place where her arm met Ethan's, and Jack finally smiled, "I haven't heard about you, but it's nice to meet you."

Jack's voice sounded like a clearer version of his father's, somewhat raspy and low, but without the additional wear of age or hard living. Strangely, Jack seemed almost immediately satisfied, and he smiled at his sister.

"If Mom and Dad go out tonight, the three of us can hang out," Ava offered, and Jack nodded.

"Of course we're going out tonight. Then all day tomorrow, you're stuck with us. For our traditional, formal, family dinners. Hope you brought your tux," House said to Ava, occasionally looking over at Ethan.

House nodded at the unfamiliar presence but didn't formally introduce himself or offer a handshake. Instead he turned to his son, "Will you be alright if you have to share your Wednesday nights with your sister, Jack?" House asked loudly.

"Yea, Dad, it's fine," Jack answered and started walking toward the airplane to grab luggage.

"Your brother is a certifiable ladies' man," House told Ava before he turned back to Jack. "Do you have anything you may need to borrow from me while you're out…wooing the ladies? I know you like to take plays from my playbook."

"Nope," Jack said, "I'm good."

"Want to borrow a cane…maybe my desk? Since you've now accepted that I am…a master of seduction."

Jack looked up, frustrated but didn't answer.

"You play the piano?" House asked Ethan.

"No, I'm not much of a musician," Ethan answered.

"Jack could teach you," House answered. "I understand his lessons are quite…moving."

"Dad," Jack said, requesting his father's silence.

House nodded and elbowed Jack, "I sympathize with your goal…I just think people should know where you got your awesome from."

"Mom?" Jack retorted.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ava asked.

Cuddy took Ava's free arm and mouthed, "Later," and nodded.

They spent the afternoon catching up, and in the evening, House and Cuddy left for their date. Cuddy was dressed in a beautiful gown, showing off her figure, and looking like poised grace. Ethan said goodbye to her and whispered, softly, "You look very elegant, Dr. Cuddy," in such a respectful way that she nodded her appreciation before she met House to leave for the night.

"What did you do?" Ava turned directly to Jack, hands on her hips. "What's the deal with Dad talking about you copying his plays and getting your awesome from him?"

Jack sighed, "I made a slight error."

Ava smiled, "Spill it…"

"Last week…they went on date night, and I brought a girl over."

"When did stuff like that start bothering Dad? Were you…naked…or back in your room…or…god…were you in _their_ room?"

"No! We were in the living room and we weren't naked. If Dad ever catches me like that I'll never live it down. It wasn't like that it was more…circumstantial."

"You must have screwed up if you're being cagey with me."

"Apparently, Dad forgot his wallet. He came back in, and caught us making out…and you are right…ordinarily, he wouldn't have been upset…but, I was…playing something for her…and…"

"Oh my god…you were making out with a girl…on Dad's piano?!" Ava practically yelled.

Jack shrugged, "She liked it."

"Until dad came in"

"Yea. He was calm while she was here, he didn't say anything. He went back to their room, got his wallet, and stopped only for a second. He handed me that cloth…and that special piano polish…and left…that was it."

"So what…you just went…back to making out?"

"Oh, no. We went out. She was scared he was coming back. We went over to Aunt Kate's place and ate, because I was scared to go anywhere else. I don't know where they go on their dates, and if we ran into them…it may have traumatized me for life."

"Did he say anything else?"

"Yea…he found me…alone…in my room after they got back, woke me up, and told me that…he now has proof that even I know he is the Lord of Seduction…and asked if I needed any advice. He started calling me Junior and insisting that I aspire to be like him…and that I have a looooooong way to go, but if anyone could get there, it's me."

"Actually," Ava said, "I think he went sort of easy on you."

"Probably," Jack nodded. "Except for the comparisons about making out on his piano being worse than him making out with Mom in my bed. I was terrified for a few days that he'd actually do that. I'd have to move out."

"Mom wouldn't do that to you…actually, he wouldn't either, but I'll bet he loved how freaked you were…"

"You could see it…he was proud."

Ava smiled, "You like this one? This girl?"

"She's OK," Jack shrugged. "Still waiting and watching."

"You like to keep your options open?" Ethan asked.

"Jack is the youngest, most romantic guy who refuses to have a girlfriend," Ava said. "He believes, without a doubt, that everyone has one, true love. You can love other people, but you have one, _real_, true love. And trying to force it is pointless. He's looking for her."

"That's sort of cool," Ethan said.

"My sister thinks I'm nuts," Jack answered.

"Well…you can call it what you want…one true love, coincidental meeting, a relationship built on hard work and compatibility…but in the end…if it really works, it's true love anyway, isn't it?"

Jack nodded, "Exactly."

Ava left for the bathroom, rolling her eyes and leaving the two guys alone.

"You want to work for my parents…_and_ go out with my sister?" Jack asked.

"I didn't know your sister when I applied," Ethan answered.

Jack nodded, but didn't say anything.

"I know how much you love your sister. I'm not a bad guy," Ethan said, waiting for Jack to place the appropriate threats.

"I like you," Jack said, practically. "I know you're not a bad guy. You think I'm going to tell you to leave my sister alone or something?"

"Pretty much"

Jack chuckled, "I'm the least frightening of the group. Ava's shitloads tougher than me. I figure, if she needs me, she'll let me know."

Ethan smiled, "Your parents don't like me."

"They don't know you," Jack said honestly. "They think actions speak volumes, so they'll wait and watch. They trust Ava…but to be honest, it isn't like she brings a lot of guys home. This is uncharted territory. I'm not sure if they'll go all, 'If you hurt our little girl,' on you or not. But, in the end, they'll give you a fair chance."

"Who's more terrifying, your mom or your dad?"

"They're both sort of scary in their own way. Mom is the great defender. She's a bit more reserved at first. You'll have to get her past that to really see her. Dad is a big…Dad. And if he thinks one of his own are in trouble…he gets really protective…while trying look like he's just letting things play out. He's not reserved…he'll make you cringe, and he'll be loud and sometimes a bit too much. You'll have to get him past that to really see him. They start at opposite poles…one reserved…one not…underneath their crunchy shells…they're both a lot alike.

"What's this formal, family dinner tomorrow?"

"It's…our family. Very informal. There's lots of food…it's fun. And you have to meet Aunt Kate and Aunt Mel…the Grandmothers…and I'm guessing Mom and Dad will try to figure you out."

Ethan looked a bit nervous and he nodded. "Any advice?"

"Don't be fake…they'll know. The Grandmothers can smell fear, don't forget that. My family is weird," Jack nodded, "But we all really love each other. In the end…you have Ava's approval…that's really hard to come by, and honestly all you really need. But…if you want Ava…you get all of us too."


	41. Coming of Age

_A/N-Thank you all for still hanging out with this gang and thanks to all who reviewed: IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, Guest, OldSFfan, bladesmum, JLCH, housebound, jaybe61, Josam, BJAllen815, Truth, SupaDupaAlex, Mon Fogel, ClareBear14, Suzieqlondon, Abby, dmarchl21, HuddyGirl, Alex, grouchysnarky, Boo's House, LapizSilkwood and CaptainK8._

_"Reversing" will likely be posted late Wed/Thursday.  
_

* * *

When House and Cuddy left for their date, they were beyond surprised at how things had changed in one day. Ava had never been much for dating. She occasionally took her brother as a companion when one was needed for formal events, and the only times that she introduced her parents to any boys, they were friends or study partners. And then there was Ethan.

He seemed nice, in an afternoon, neither of the parents saw anything that caused them alarm, but it was so sudden, and there was the interesting fact that he was also an applicant for the position of resident. They went to the cabin they often rented for their evenings alone and sat on the porch with the dinner they had ordered, where they ate almost entirely in thoughtful silence.

"What are we going to do about this?" House asked after dinner was over and they retreated back into the cabin.

"I don't know if we should do anything," Cuddy answered.

"And what about his application for residency?"

"We should consider his application the same way we would consider it if he didn't show up with Ava."

"You say that but your expression doesn't match the sentiment."

"I know…because it's going to be hard, and just like you…I don't want Ava to get hurt."

"We could be assholes," House began, "intimidate, irritate, freak out the guy right out the door."

"I don't know that he'd be that easy to scare away…I think he likes her. And if she showed up with him, she likes him. I don't want her to feel like she has to choose between us and a man. Ever."

"Or even worse…what if we were completely successful? What if we managed to get the guy to run? I don't want her to end up living her life alone because she'd rather avoid getting hurt. That should be the one thing we've taught her. That we don't want her to protect herself so well…that she's alone."

"I guess we should give him a chance. And in the end…it is her decision."

"If he isn't genuinely interested he'll probably get spooked off tomorrow anyway. No one's gonna put up with all of that insanity just for a residency."

"Maybe," Cuddy smiled and pressed her body closer to his side and relaxed into him.

They had become so accustomed to being in each other's presence that subtle outward signs of affection became so simple they were like breathing. As their children grew and needed them less, it only drew them closer together as they tried to fill the void. They still each had their time to themselves for their own interests but at the end of each day, they'd gravitate toward each other. They hadn't been apart for a full day in years. The only permanent member of House's team was Cuddy, and he stubbornly refused to take a case without her.

"Do you think he'll sleep in her room?" House asked suddenly, looking over at Cuddy.

"I don't know. I didn't discuss that with Ava at all."

"I guess it doesn't matter," House said unconvincingly.

"What are we going to do…if we get home and he's sleeping in her room? Are we OK with that?"

"I don't know," House answered honestly. "I've never really thought about it. Are we those parents?"

"I don't know," Cuddy answered. "This question is new, we weren't ready for it."

"Maybe they aren't sleeping together?"

Cuddy shook her head, "You know they are, House. You can pretend that's not the case if you have some denial left in the bank from back in the day."

House stared ahead, brow furrowed, clearly distressed.

"You didn't get upset last week…when you caught Jack and that girl making out. You seemed to take that remarkably well. Do I detect a double standard?" Cuddy asked.

"No. Jack's not in love and he's not having sex with that girl. Less chance of getting hurt."

"You don't know that."

"I do"

"How?"

"I asked him yesterday."

"You asked him?"

"He said she wasn't 'his love' and he didn't feel it was the 'appropriate time for sexual intimacy.'"

"No, he didn't!" Cuddy protested.

"He did. I think he forgot he's a seventeen year-old male again."

"He tries…so hard to be a good guy."

"If Ava brought the guy home…she must like him. She's good at seeing through people," House stated reassuringly.

"And at the same time, she's going to count on us and Jack to make sure she's not making a mistake. She wanted us to meet him right away. She doesn't want us to think that, but she'll take non-action to signify an approval, and she'll want our approval…even if she's actively telling us she doesn't want it."

"True," House sighed. "So you're used to coming up with solutions for impossible situations. What's the solution? How do we make sure she doesn't get hurt, and make sure she doesn't end up alone and angry?"

Cuddy shook her head. "We have to do the one thing that neither of us is good at doing."

"What's that?"

"Absolutely nothing. I mean we should watch…we should tell her what we think. We have to be honest, but _do_…nothing."

"Do you think we can do that?" House asked.

The replied simultaneously, "I don't know if we can."

* * *

They finished their date, enjoying their time together. They still had a healthy sex life, for their ages, and still really seemed to enjoy their time alone together. They each thought the loss of the other would be an insurmountable obstacle to survival. When House's liver began failing almost two years earlier, there was nothing Cuddy wouldn't do for him. After all of those years, he still felt somehow unworthy of the devotion that she had for him, and when it was called upon, it was both beautiful and fierce. When things went wrong in their lives, they fixed them. She and House were a formidable team, and joked often that there was nothing they couldn't somehow find an answer to, even if that answer was sometimes just a little illegal. Their children reaching adulthood was one of the most difficult things they'd ever faced.

They finally arrived back home shortly after sunup, as they often did. Right inside their living room, TV glowing, slept their children and Ethan. Ethan was slumped down at one end of the sofa, his stocking feet on the table, one arm draped over Ava's back. She was leaning against his torso, also sleeping. Next to them, in the oversized recliner, was Jack. It was like a scene they'd witnessed hundreds of times as the children grew, but with a new participant. It was odd, seeing Ava so relaxed with someone, but the sweetness and innocence of the interaction made it much more palatable than discovering that he'd spent the night in Ava's room behind locked doors. Cuddy guessed that Ava wanted to be near Ethan, and opted to sleep in the living room, even talking Jack into remaining under the guise of watching a movie, out of respect for her parents.

Ethan's eyes popped open when Cuddy blocked the light that was shining on his face. He started to try to remove himself from Ava, obviously nervous about the reaction of her parents, and Cuddy walked behind the sofa, placing one hand on Ethan's shoulder to tell him that he didn't have to move from his spot.

Cuddy and House went to the kitchen to make coffee and get some breakfast, and a few minutes later, Ethan appeared. "Can I sit down, Sir?" Ethan asked, pointing at the barstool in front of the counter next to House.

House briskly shook his head and Ethan backed away to the end of the counter.

"You can _sit_," House said, "don't…do that 'sir' crap. It's creepy."

"Sorry, s-," Ethan was visibly uncomfortable, "Sorry…doctor."

"Were you military?" House asked.

"Not me. My mother."

"Grew up on bases?" House asked, suddenly sounding much less intimidating.

"No, my grandfather took care of me when she was gone."

"How does your mother feel about you taking a residency so far away from home. Almost like a role reversal?" Cuddy asked.

"No, ma'am. My mother died two years ago. Lung cancer."

Cuddy and House locked eyes for a second, it was almost like they could see yet another lost soul weaving their way into the family. They weren't completely sold, but if Ava liked him, it all seemed to fit.

"I just thought maybe I'd try to talk to you alone for a minute," Ethan said, looking rather fearless in front of two people who were often feared. "That way you can say whatever you need to say without having to worry about Ava hearing."

"We'd say the same thing to you whether she was here or not," House answered.

"OK," Ethan answered. "I just met Ava. I don't know her all that well yet. But, I think I will. I hope. I mean…there aren't a lot of women like her, so I'm gonna try. If you feel there's a conflict of interest, you should tell me."

"Well," House tilted his head, "You shouldn't be personally connected with the people you work with. At least you don't really work together. I mean, it's really, _really_ inappropriate to sleep with coworkers, or even worse, your employees…I don't know any responsible person who would do that."

He turned and found Cuddy's scowl as she retorted, "People do that because it's really fun to have that much control over the person in their bed. At least Ethan doesn't have to worry, because I gave up sleeping with employees a long time ago."

Ethan looked between them, at the knowing smirks being shared, and waited.

While still looking at House, Cuddy said, "Ethan, House and I will judge you the same as all of the other applicants." Then she turned toward the young man sitting next to House, "And we'll judge you and your relationship with our daughter separately. I know it sounds blunt, but…that's sort of how things are around here. There's not a lot of pretense in this home."

"I figured. Your daughter doesn't seem to have much time for pretense either."

"Are you staying for the dinner today?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea, if that's OK. Look…I completely understand why you'd want to protect her. And I know you don't know me. If there is anything you want to say…I'm willing to listen."

"You think we're going to threaten you?" House asked.

"Maybe"

"So you're expecting us to tell you what the consequences will be…if you hurt our little girl?"

"Something like that, Sir. Sorry, I meant doctor."

Cuddy leaned over the counter, "Ethan…you'll hear my family make fun of me…mock how protective I am…it doesn't bother me…actually, I like it. I like knowing that they feel that way. You'll also hear about my husband inspiring fear in the minds of those who have threatened us…our kids like to talk about this stuff like some sort of grand family mythology."

"Yea, I've already heard," Ethan nodded and smiled his acceptance.

"Part of me is admittedly tempted…to make such threats. To be honest, I don't know what I think of you yet. Jack and Ava make their decisions more quickly…House may have already too, but we're more guarded. It takes us a little more time. What I can tell you is, no matter what I see, or what I threaten, or what I want…it doesn't matter. My sister, hated my husband. It was because she loved me…she wanted to protect me…but it made things difficult. In the end, he was right for me. This is between you and Ava. And if you hurt her…I will likely despise you forever, but, there's no point in offering any threats. If you screw up you will suffer from something that's not within my control to bestow or remove. You will lose Ava. I can't possibly think of a harsher sentence than that. She knows what she's doing. No matter who you are…any man should consider themselves lucky to be trusted by her."

Ethan nodded his affirmation, but said nothing. He turned toward House, waiting to hear what the man had to say. House looked at Ethan and said, "Yea, what she said."

"Thank you, Sir," Ethan smiled.

House immediately responded, "If you call me sir even one time during your interview, or while employed, I'll fire you."

"OK," Ethan nodded.

"And stay away from my wife," House added, winking at Cuddy.

* * *

Later that morning, Ava, Jack and Ethan went to the kitchen to help begin the preparations for dinner. Each person had their own task, something to cut or prepare or warm, and the conversation was progressing effortlessly until Jack asked a question.

"Can I go back to Boston with Ava to stay for a few days?" Jack asked.

"As long as it's OK with Ava," Cuddy answered, "and you won't miss too much school."

"I have break next week when she goes back."

"OK," Cuddy said after looking at House for his agreement.

Jack looked ahead, took a breath and said, "There's something I have to tell you guys."

Cuddy stopped, resting her hands next to her cutting board, standing beside House as he continued his preparations. They were certain it was something about a girl, and for a few moments, their hearts were in their throats.

"I need to go there…for an interview," Jack said cautiously.

"What interview?" House asked, looking up from his dish.

"What's going on, Jack?" Cuddy asked, attempting to sound casual.

"I want to go to college after I graduate," their son answered.

"Says the guy who didn't feel like finishing high school," House interjected.

"I applied to Berklee College of Music…it's near Ava. And…BU too. I sent them my portfolio and I also had a video audition…piano. They invited me for an interview and a live audition," Jack answered.

House and Cuddy stared, completely shocked. "College?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea," Jack nodded.

"You never even hinted about wanting to go. Every time we've brought it up you've told us that school isn't for you," Cuddy replied.

"I know. It wasn't for me. And then I started thinking about it, but I didn't think I'd get in, and I didn't want to get your hopes up."

Jack looked for a reaction from either of his parents besides the blank stares he received. Then Cuddy shook her head, "I'm so proud of you," she said, walking over to hug him. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I thought if I had a degree, I could work with Aunt Kate…help the kids who come for counseling or crisis intervention," Jack said, referring to the victims of abuse that Kate worked with. "Art or music therapy would be something new."

"You're planning on coming back here?" Cuddy asked, looking more relieved than what she wanted to let on.

"Yea," Jack smiled. "I stay in Boston with Ava while we're in school, then come back here."

"You don't have to come back here because of us," Cuddy said, "We want you to live your life."

"I know," Jack nodded, "It's what I want to do. This is my home. I love it here and I want to help the kids and work with Aunt Kate. Then I can paint or play…do what I love and help people."

"We're just really surprised. This is great, we're just shocked… I can't believe you're going to _college_."

"I can't either," Jack answered. "What do you think, Dad?"

House stared ahead. His face was blank, confused, it was easy to see he was not expecting what he'd just heard. "Good job, Jack. Congratulations."

"I'll take loans, try to get scholarships," Jack answered, noticing his father's hesitance, "I don't expect a handout."

"Don't worry about that," Cuddy said, "We told you since you were little…both of you, if you want to go, we'll pay."

"Then I can be in Boston to make sure Ava's OK," Jack said, sounding as if he wanted to sweeten the deal.

"It's great, Jack," House said, wrapping one arm around his son's shoulders after he limped over to him. "I'm surprised you went for it, but they'd be complete fools not to take you. You have enormous talent. I'm happy for you. And I'm glad you guys will be there to look out for each other."

House locked eyes with Cuddy for a moment. It had been eighteen years since they met Ava. After all of those years as parents, their nest was about to be unexpectedly empty. They heard people coming in the front door, and watched as Ava took Ethan into the living room to greet the people who had arrived. "Are you guys OK?" Jack asked.

"Of course we are," House replied strongly, "We're thrilled to finally have this place to ourselves for a while, we can go back to walking around naked, no more responsibilities…it'll be like college all over again."

Jack smiled, "If you don't want me to go, I don't have to."

"We want you to go!" Cuddy assured. "It was just a surprise."

"OK," Jack smiled, "I'm gonna go say hi…and I'm going to have a lock installed on my bedroom door…so your naked butt stays out of my room."

House smiled at Jack, and nodded until the teen left the room. The smile drifted off of House's face as soon as Jack was gone. "You going to be able to stand it…being stuck here…alone…with me?" House asked Cuddy.

"Definitely," she smiled. "We found Ava right after we got married. After years of not being together, we were together…and then we had kids almost right away. It'll be weird…but it'll be good. It's good for him."

House nodded again, a crestfallen expression on his face.

"You OK?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea," House nodded, trying to look unaffected.


	42. The Forty-Two Point Inspection

_A/N-Thank you to everyone still interested in this story, and to all of the reviewers since the last time: OldSFfan, IHeartHouseCuddy, ikissedtheLaurie, Guest, jaybe61, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, Truth, Mon Fogel, aussiefan12, dmarchl21, BJAllen815, Boo's House, jkarr, Suzieqlondon, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, Josam, LapizSilkwood, and CaptainK8._

_I am keeping track of the flashback requests that I have received for this story. I have a small list of requests already, and I'll try to fit in all of those that I can when I do the flashback/short story piece for this AU._

_Thank you for your patience, I know my updating has been horrible lately. I'll be updating 'Reversing the Ritual' Mon/Tuesday._

* * *

_**-Shortly after Ava's fourteenth birthday-**_

"_I lied," Ava said when she walked through the door and stood defiantly in front of House. He was on the sofa his body resting deeply in the cushions, mindlessly flipping through channels. _

"_Yea, I know," he replied. _

"_If you knew, why didn't you stop me?"_

"_I can't make all of your decisions for you, Ava."_

"_I'm sorry," she answered, her defiance slipping away as she sat on the sofa next to him, looking more defeated than defiant._

"_Are you OK?" he asked, clicking off the TV and folding his hands on his stomach. _

"_God, he was such a jerk," Ava mumbled, wiping an errant tear angrily from her face. _

_House fought the rising anger burning through his chest and tried to remain calm, "What happened?"_

"_He was just…being a guy."_

"_Did he hurt you?" House asked, the concern and anger showing through his attempt at nonchalance. _

"_I'm fine," she answered with a sniffle, and then as a few more tears dropped, House was ready to kill the guy who did whatever he did that was making her cry._

"_Who did you meet?"_

"_Just Brad"_

"_What did he do, Ava?" House asked softly, sitting up higher in his seat._

_He knew Ava was lying earlier when she claimed to be meeting a friend at the library. The sudden request to study with a friend from school came only a day after House and Cuddy agreed that Ava was too young to go on a date with a boy from school that was a few years older. Ava didn't date, and they knew from Jack that she was getting teased for her lack of interest in the opposite sex. House worried about the intentions of the older boy and Cuddy worried that Ava was caving to peer pressure, so when Ava asked to go on the date, they told her no. When she lied to them, they both knew. House convinced Cuddy to trust Ava to make the right decision, and when he realized that something might have gone horribly wrong, he couldn't deny an overwhelming sense of guilt._

_Ava didn't answer, so House said softly, "Would you feel more comfortable talking to your Mom or Aunt Kate instead of me?"_

"_Don't tell Mom," Ava said, shaking her head._

"_Just tell me what happened."_

"_We went and got shaved ice, and then…he wanted me to go to his place because his parents are gone this weekend."_

_House was convinced he was going to vomit, that part of his daughter was forever destroyed and he sat by and allowed her to walk right into the trap._

"_OK," House nodded, clinging to all of the strength inside him to be a calm, supportive father. "Just be honest, I'm not going to get mad at you. Did he hurt you?"_

"_Of course he hurt me"_

"_This is my fault. I knew you were lying. I should have stopped you."_

"_It's not your fault. It sucks what he said, but I'll be OK."_

"_What he said? You're hurt by something he said?"_

"_Yea," Ava answered, "What did you think?"_

"_He didn't…hurt you physically?" House said, unable to hide a small, relieved smile._

"_No, he was mad that I wouldn't go to his house. He was screaming and mean…he called me a stupid cock tease."_

_House growled, "You didn't go?"_

"_Of course not. I don't really like him."_

_House jerked her forward into a hug, "Damn. You scared me, kid."_

"_I know, I shouldn't have lied."_

"_Why'd you go if you don't like him?" House asked, releasing her from the tight hug.  
_

"_I'm a dork. I've never had a real boyfriend, and everyone knows I've never had a real boyfriend. I figured, if I went out with him a few times…"_

"_You went out with someone to shut people up?"_

"_Yea"_

"_See, I'm not mad that you lied or that you went, but I'm really disappointed that you lied and went because of what other people thought. Doing stuff to please those idiots…that's a mistake. He could have really hurt you."_

"_I'm sorry"_

"_I know"_

"_Don't worry, I'm done with boys. Love is dumb."_

"_That's a lie. Love is not dumb, letting judgmental idiots tell you what to do and actually listening to them…that's dumb."_

"_I'll just stay here with you guys. Stay with you and Mom and Jack. No more dating and no more guys."_

"_Don't let this jackass scare you. He was jerk and you exercised really poor judgment. You need your own life. Hopefully you'll meet someone that matters to you like your mom matters to me."_

"_I don't know how you can even tell."_

"_You can tell."_

"_Are you gonna tell Mom what happened?"_

"_No," House shook his head. "You are."_

"_That's not fair. Me?"_

"_Yea. We both screwed up. You let other people make decisions for you, and you could have really gotten hurt. So it seems fitting that you tell your Mom what happened. That will give you an opportunity to show us that you're acting more like yourself and taking responsibility for your lie."_

"_Fine," Ava nodded. _

"_And…I screwed up too. I can't treat you like an adult. My decision could have gotten you hurt, and I couldn't live with that."_

"_Nothing happened"_

"_It could have. Trust me, kid, it would have killed me. I have to know when to treat you like an adult…and when to remember that, under it all, you're still a kid. I've always had trouble with that with you. And you need to be able to count on me to protect you."_

* * *

Ethan had both dreaded and anticipated the dinner since he first heard of it. Ava's parents were, in a very real way, terrifying people. They had said little, but he felt it was clear that their silence was out of respect for their daughter's choices more than for him as a human being.

Kate and Mel introduced themselves first, and it seemed to Ethan that they were trying to tame their surprise. Mel was quite welcoming. After all of those years, she was one of the last to join the patchwork family, and Ethan wondered if her kindness was innate, or if it was the result of a sympathetic understanding. Kate seemed friendly enough, but she was obviously studying him while she was asking questions about him and his past.

After Jack joined them in the living room, they heard the grandmothers clamoring their way through the door. Ava and Jack went immediately to their aid while Ethan waited with Kate.

"You're nervous," Kate stated without question.

"Yea, a bit," Ethan replied.

"What exactly do you have to be nervous about?"

"Ava has a very protective family here"

"Have you guys been seeing each other long?" Kate asked. When Ethan looked at his watch, Kate laughed, "That long, huh?"

"We just met," Ethan answered, "I was initially coming here to apply for the residency position."

Kate rubbed her forehead. "You want to date Ava…while working for her parents?"

"Yea. And the more I'm standing here, the more I know it's not a good idea."

"Who in the hell is that?" they heard from the doorway. Celia stood, hands on her hips, behind a wheelchair.

"Grandmama Celia, this is Ethan. We went on a few dates and I wanted him to meet the family so he could decide if I'm worth it," Ava joked.

"Getting to know your family is one of the biggest joys of getting to know you…we're a selling point," Celia insisted. "I'm her Grandmama Celia. I'm easy, if you treat her good, I'll love you. If you hurt her, my friend here and I will l cut your nuts off," and then she giggled in a way that was both endearing and a little worrisome.

Ethan nodded as he stared ahead at the latest threat. Celia was old, although not frail, and Ethan was trying to figure out whether she was House or Cuddy's mother. Even for a family dinner, the woman was dressed properly, with neat, obviously pressed clothes, and hair pulled back tightly on her head. She was the very picture of proud dignity, and that aged picture of proud dignity was threatening him with bodily harm. Of course, the friend and co-conspirator that she mentioned seemed even less threatening: Arlene Cuddy. Arlene was in a wheelchair, leaning forward with her arms on the armrests and a somewhat menacing expression on her face. "I'm her Grandma," Arlene said calmly, looking over Ethan with a sneer and an eye of judgment. "I don't like you."

"Arlene," Celia said gently with a hand on Arlene's shoulder, "Give him a chance, we'll tell him we don't like him later, so at least it looks like we tried."

Arlene was also neatly dressed and proper, although obviously frailer and older. Her hair was blond and Ethan wondered if the woman with her was the one who ensured that no roots showed along her scalp, and that her clothes were so tidy and clean. "Are you Jewish?" Arlene asked.

"In a way, ma'am," Ethan answered, "Although not in practice."

"At least a little better than him then," Arlene said, nodding toward the kitchen door where House appeared and was limping toward her.

House leaned down, his face near the old woman, and shouted with ridiculous volume, "Ethan, this is Cuddy's mother. We really want to euthanize her, but looking at her makes me feel young and spry, so we're keeping her around a while."

"I'm not deaf you intolerable jerk," Arlene said with a broad grin, turning to House.

"If you were deaf," House screamed more loudly, "no amount of screaming would allow you to hear."

"And no amount of looking at a woman in a wheelchair is going to make _you_ feel spry."

"Your daughter isn't complaining," House bragged.

The old woman slapped House's face gently with a smirk that was equally friendly and irked, and she said, "Make yourself useful and get me a drink for my pill. Pretty please."

House stood and turned toward the kitchen and then Arlene asked Ava loudly, "I hope you remember to act like a lady."

"When have I ever acted like a _lady_?" Ava asked.

"Don't play word games with me. You know exactly what I mean, and I'm so old I can say whatever I want and no one will question me. If you want my questions to get more specific, I can do that for you," Arlene threatened.

"No, Grandma, you don't have to get more specific," Ava smiled. "We have only gone out a few times. I thought he'd like to meet all of you while I was home."

"You believe in marriage?" Celia asked him.

"Sure," Ethan said.

"What do you mean, _sure_?" Arlene asked.

"Well, it works for some people," Ethan explained.

"It _works_ for anyone who takes it seriously," Arlene added. "Even the crazy heathen my daughter married."

"Mom," Cuddy said as she walked over to her mother, "Ethan isn't here to propose, he's just meeting people. I'd be more frightened if he had already proposed. They just met."

"And what if he's just some jerk who's using her?" Arlene asked.

"If he's some jerk…you two can put together a nut-gathering committee…just like the one Celia was talking about," Cuddy offered.

Arlene nodded, pleased. "I'm surprised Ava's dating. I always assumed she was so horrified by witnessing what you put up with every day to ever date a man. So weird too…she's your daughter, and keeping _you_ away from boys was a full-time job. I always hoped you'd have a kid like that so you'd know what I went through. I still remember catching the Schechter boy in your bedroom. That was when it all began."

"It was not…when it all began," Cuddy insisted, pushing the wheelchair over next to the sofa.

"Imagine the strain my heart was under all of those years."

"We were _seven_," Cuddy clarified.

"All the more horrifying," Arlene replied.

"We weren't fooling around, we were playing. Like seven year-old's do. Playing!"

"Doctor?"

"No," Cuddy answered. "Yahtzee."

"Strip Yahtzee?" House asked as he came back in the room with a drink for Arlene.

"No, I was _seven_," Cuddy answered House, "Anyway, that isn't a thing."

"Protecting your virtue was like trying to control wildfires," Arlene retorted.

"I was a very good kid," Cuddy responded.

"You were very smart. Very successful in school. And the boys just loved you."

"Which doesn't mean I was loving them," Cuddy clarified.

As the adults argued and settled in, Ava pulled Ethan by the arm out into the kitchen, "This…is my family. This sort of thing is all, perfectly normal. Except for the part where I bring a date."

Ava looked at Ethan for a reaction, a little uncomfortable and hesitant.

"Your Grandmothers are awesome," Ethan nodded. "I'll just have to be careful to guard my nuts, since the old ladies are so interested in removing them."

"I know they're crazy, but I'm pretty attached to them."

"My nuts?" Ethan smirked.

"I meant my family…but I'd prefer that you weren't needlessly disfigured."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. This is fun for me, I don't have a family like this. They love you. Better crazy than boring, right?"

Ava tilted her head, "When you talk like that, it's clear…give him time…Dad will like you."

"Good," Ethan said before he wrapped his arms around Ava while they stood in the kitchen. "So does that mean we can still go out?"

"I think so," Ava nodded, looking at him affectionately.

When her father walked into the room, he breathed out loudly, a sound that vaguely resembled a growl. Ethan let go. "Is Celia your mother, Dr. House?" he asked.

"Pretty much," House answered disinterestedly.

"I'm going to go provide blood samples to your Grandmothers," Ethan said to Ava, smiling subtly before leaving. "I have that forty-two point background check to complete."

"Dad, you OK?" Ava asked after Ethan left.

"Wonderful," House answered gruffly while he went back to cooking.

"You having a _daddy's little girl_ moment?"

"No," he answered, staring at the food in front of him.

"Dad…you kind of are…aren't you?"

"Maybe a little"

"Why? You don't get that way with Jack. I'm older…just because I'm a girl doesn't mean-"

"It's not because you're a girl. It's because you're you…and he's him."

"And I'm a girl…and he's a boy, and you feel he should be out sowing his wild oats and I should be sitting in my room studying?"

"Is that really what you think?" he asked, looking up at her. "You think I treat you differently because he's a guy."

"No. But that's how it seems."

"I caught Jack messing around with some girl, and I teased him. I've been giving him shit about it for days. Do you think I'd tease you about it if it was you I caught?"

"No, I don't"

"Which is because of your personality, not because of your twenty-third chromosome. You'd be horrified if it was you and you were being teased for that…it doesn't bother Jack. You'll get hurt if it goes wrong. You'll get really hurt…and then I won't know how to fix it. If Jack gets hurt…he'll paint and he'll play some music…and he'll be sad, but he'll get through. What will you do if you get hurt?"

"Are you serious?" Ava asked, jumping up onto the counter next to him.

"Yea, I'm serious. You and Jack are different. I…have never dealt with hurting very well and even if you don't want to be, you're just like me. I don't want to see you like that. It's…selfish."

"I don't mind being like you. And that's not selfish."

"Yea, it is."

"Were you happier being alone, before you and Mom worked stuff out?" she asked.

"You know the answer to that," House replied.

"I do. I've avoided this. I've stayed pretty far away from getting actually involved with guys. I met him, and it felt right. I don't know why. And I might be very wrong. If that happens, if everything goes wrong, I'll get by. I probably won't be quick to try again, but I have to at least give it a try this time."

"If anything happens…you know who to call, right?"

"Of course," Ava answered.

"If you're that hurt, don't sit there alone. Find us or Jack or Kate. Find someone."

"Dad," Ava nodded, "I will be OK."

He nodded and smiled somberly before continuing to cook.

"You look so sad, Dad," Ava said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Not sad"

"You're lying"

"Tiny lies"

"Because I'm seeing a guy?"

"Because…as much as I want to, I can't make sure you'll never be hurt. I can't make sure that guy you like will never try to destroy you. I can't make sure Jack doesn't decide to go to Boston and go crazy with his first taste of freedom. Get into…drugs and the mob."

"Jack will not be into drugs and the mob," Ava chuckled sweetly. "He'll be fine. You…don't want us to go."

"Duh"

"We'll be back"

"You don't have to come back. You guys don't owe us that, we'd never want to trap you."

"I can't believe this is bothering you this much."

"I waited a long time for you guys, didn't even know I wanted you. Then once I had you…"

House started chopping with much more concentration.

"Dad," Ava said, taking the knife from his hand and hugging him. "We might be far away…for a little while. Nothing's gonna keep us apart for long."

"I know."

"You're so cute sometimes."

"Shut up," House said, as he leaned back, smirking at her. "You brats have made me weak," he teased.

"Give Ethan a chance, please. For me?"

"You know I will."

"Yea, I know. If something goes wrong…you know I'll come home. Whether I like it or not, when things go wrong, I run to my parents like a five year-old."

"It's not child-like to know a safe place to go when you're hurt. If you're shot, you go to the ER."

"A fact that, sadly, you know from experience."

"I've spent years trying to protect you…and now I have to remember…that you aren't a kid anymore. You are an adult. So no matter how much I want to protect you, it's time to let you make your decisions."

"Thank you"

"But, it makes me feel better to tell you that if you try, and something goes wrong, you know where you can go. I can't make your decisions, but I can be there if things go wrong. Or to high-five you if they go right. Holding onto that…is the only way I can step back and let you make your decisions."

Cuddy walked into the room, "Your Grandmothers are asking your date about his previous girlfriends."

"I don't even know what they're talking about," Ethan said seconds later as he followed Cuddy into the kitchen. "What did that mean?" he asked Cuddy.

"You really don't want to know," Cuddy said, patting his arm. "They're trying to rattle you."

Ethan did look a bit flustered, the old ladies were sufficiently embarrassing him.

"You have to push back," House said.

"Not too much!" Ava and Cuddy added in chorus.

"What's a 'naf-le-playah-something'? She called me that?" Ethan asked.

"She makes up words sometimes," Cuddy said. "It's a combination of Yiddish, urban street talk and complete bullshit. She and Celia have their own little code words."

"Like twin-speak for wrinkled, old biddies," House added.

"I think they're trying to get me to confess to things I haven't even done," Ethan answered.

"Wait until later when they employ the skills they learned during their stint in national security…sleep deprivation, extreme temperatures and bright lights are only phase one," House stated.

Ethan sighed, looked around the kitchen and said, "I guess I better let them get it over with," before he walked back to the living room.

* * *

Later, over dinner, Celia stated loudly, "We aren't done with you, boy. You need to be vetted if you want to run around with our Ava."

Ethan smiled, he seemed to be under the mistaken impression that they were done evaluating him. "What is it you do?" Arlene asked.

"I work at a hospital in the ER right now for extra money. Like an intern. I'm finishing up medical school," Ethan answered.

"You're a doctor?" Celia asked.

"I will be when I'm done with school," he confirmed.

"Big deal," Arlene chimed in, "everyone around here is a doctor. Is that supposed to win us over?"

"Well, I started becoming a doctor before I met Ava," Ethan answered. "It's too late to change now."

"I'm just not impressed, that's all, you'll have to do more than be a person _trying_ to be a doctor to impress me," Arlene said.

"What's your specialty?" Kate asked, trying to throw him a lifeline.

"I'm interested in becoming a diagnostician. I have a background in infectious dis-"

The old women began laughing somewhat hysterically, "Greg…you want to school the boy?" Arlene asked. "He seems to think he knows something about your areas of expertise."

House looked at the kid and felt something suspiciously like an inkling of camaraderie. Ethan turned and smiled at House, suddenly more confident. Ethan began to discuss interesting cases he'd seen and some he'd heard of that House had diagnosed. Suddenly the boy began to shine, not hesitant or uncertain, but confident, brilliant and strangely willing to listen as well.

After several minutes of discussions of diagnostics, Ethan said, "I could also tell you that Lupus is complete crap…but I did my research, your thoughts on the matter were clearly conveyed by your fellows and former fellows, so, that would be cheating, just a bit. Of course, this isn't the interview for the job, that's tomorrow. This is the audition to be Ava's boyfriend."

Arlene and Celia watched while Ethan met Ava's gaze and waited to see how she reacted to his use of the word 'boyfriend.' Ava smiled at him far more widely than she wanted to in front of all of those people.

"I like him," Celia said to Arlene as if those around them couldn't hear their words. "He's a bit scrawny and I wish we'd get someone around here that wasn't a doctor, but he likes her…I say we let him hang around."

"OK," Arlene answered begrudgingly, nodding at Celia.

Just as Ethan was about to thank them for their stamp of approval, Arlene said loudly, "Of course, we reserve the right to remove our approval at any given moment."

"Or for any reason," Celia added.

"OK," Ethan replied, winking subtly at Ava.

"And…we will always…be looking for a reason," Arlene added.

Ava stood, reached out a hand, and said, "We'll be back in ten minutes. I'm going to take my boyfriend for some air. I think he's earned a break."


	43. Empty Nests

_A/N-Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter-Ann, jaybe61, OldSFfan, Boo's House, LoveMyHouse, housebound, JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, Josam, Abby, ikissedtheLaurie, HuddyGirl, Alex, southpaw2, CaptainK8, Mon Fogel, LapizSilkwood, dmarchl21, BJAllen815, ClareBear14 and Suzieqlondon._

_This story is at its end. I will start the other piece to this soon. I want to finish my other fic, and probably write one or two other shorts before I pick up the flashback only piece to this. I just need a few weeks before I can start that, and I'll try to include the requests I've received. Thank you so much to everyone who has followed this story and for all of your kind words. Hope everyone has a great 2013! I'm trying to get back on my regular update schedule…doing my best, sorry to keep you all waiting. _

_This chapter has two flashbacks._

* * *

-Empty Nests-

_**-December, Days After Rachel's Death-**_

_She'd buried her daughter days earlier and every single home she drove by with garish decorations on the lawn and flashing fucking Christmas lights made her feel more angry, despondent and nauseous. Julia convinced her to stop by a party, something nondenominationally holiday-filled so that all of Julia's friends could attend in one evening. Cuddy had gifts, expensive ones, for Julia's children that she wanted to give them to get it over with so that she wasn't expected to attend anything else. She hoped she could blend in at this party. Cuddy walked in the back door and was greeted by the smells of a warm home filled with food, family and friends. There were desserts, bubbling crock pots and trays of hors d'oeuvres on all of the surfaces around the kitchen. _

_She could hear the hum and roar of polite discourse in the next room, and the thuds and patters of children playing upstairs. Someone walked out to the kitchen, a person Cuddy didn't recognize, and she guessed it was a caterer. The caterer was so busy preparing things that she didn't even acknowledge Cuddy's presence. It seemed a golden opportunity. Cuddy turned, placed the gifts for the children on the table, and stepped back. This way, Julia could let them open the gifts that night, or on the last night of Hanukkah, or on any of the other appropriate days. _

_She took a few quick steps out the door and was fleeing to her car. _

"_Lisa," Cuddy heard from behind her, "you can't just disappear like this."_

"_I'm entitled to a few days of disappearance, aren't I, Mom?"_

"_I remember after your father died…"_

"_Not the same thing," Cuddy responded angrily, "at all."_

"_No, it wasn't," Arlene unexpectedly allowed. "But, losing someone you love…is difficult."_

"_I can't stay here, Mom. Not tonight. Too many reminders of…too many things."_

"_There will be other parties. Other years you won't feel this way."_

"_Bullshit!" Tears welling in her eyes, Cuddy practically yelled through her sorrow, "I will always feel this way. Every single holiday and birthday…I'm going to sit on the outside looking in. Watching couples get married and grow old. Watching kids graduate from high school, and learn how to drive a car. And sweet, old Lisa will watch…and remember the time she barely tasted it. I was close. I almost had this. Now I barely have a career. I'll never have more children. No matter how badly I may want to. Maybe it's for the best, I was shitty fucking mother anyway. I don't even want a guy because that never works for me, so why even fight, why invite the frustration…why even try? And I was willing to sacrifice more children and a husband and even my career…to spend time with Rachel. That one thing I had…my one lifeline…my one peek into the human experience…is gone. I laughed at people…writing their dream-married names in their notebooks in middle school while they fantasized about the future. I scoffed at girls who wrote that their aspirations were to be mothers in their high school yearbooks only to end up wanting that stuff anyway."_

"_Come back to the party," Arlene insisted. _

"_Why?"_

"_Self-indulgence will get you nowhere."_

"_Self-indulgence?" Cuddy screamed with disbelief._

"_Start moving on so you can start to heal. You can find other things that will suit you. You have to take steps away from where you are."_

"_And these are the steps? Living through Julia?"_

"_Better than going home," Arlene insisted._

"_Is it? I don't think it is."_

"_You have to do something. The longer you wait, the more difficult it's going to be."_

"_Wait 'til her body's fucking cold to tell me to move on," Cuddy said angrily before she stormed off to her car._

* * *

_**-2011-Two Days after House attempted surgery on his own leg-**_

"_What about getting a job at another hospital?" Wilson asked. "Then you wouldn't have to see her all of the time."_

"_You think Cuddy is the reason why I'm here…as a patient?" House sneered._

"_Indirectly…sure. You're completely out of control. Your risks will get stupider, your behavior more insane and at some point you're going to kill yourself. It's time to get past all of this. You need space from Cuddy."_

"_Because all of my problems are about Cuddy?"_

"_Right now, it's interrelated. You're upset about what happened…that's OK…but you can't keep doing this."_

"_I won't. The nice surgeon removed all those pesky little tumors, and now I'm fine."_

"_You aren't fine. It's time…to move on."_

"_To what? One nondescript night moves into the next. You want me to seek enlightenment? Get clean again…'cause that worked out great the last time! I doubt it but maybe…maybe it would have been worth it ten years ago. Now it's…too late."_

"_There can be new nights," Wilson nodded._

"_No, there can be the same night. Over…and over…Cuddy hates me. She'll continue to hate me. The only improvement in our relationship…will be my ability to make her hate me more. Nothing changes. People don't change…they just become more of who they are. I want to go home to my apartment, with my Vicodin and my piano and I want you…and Cuddy…and everyone else…to leave me alone."_

* * *

To Ethan, it seemed simple. He was awake often through the night as he thought of each person's reaction to the prospect that he wanted to apply for a position at the Center while dating Ava. Everyone thought he was insane. He carefully considered his options, and in the end, it seemed there was only one choice.

When Ava woke up and walked into the living room where Ethan had slept the night before, she was surprised to see him sitting there. "What time is your interview?" she asked, sitting next to him and leaning into his arm.

"Ten," Ethan calmly stated.

"You have twenty minutes to get down there and you aren't even dressed?"

"I'm not going"

"You talked to my parents? I can't imagine them telling you not to-"

"They didn't talk to me," Ethan interrupted. "I decided it was best."

"You're giving this up? This is a chance very few people get, why would you do that?" Ava asked with confusion.

"This way, you won't think I'm just interested in you for the job."

"I don't think that."

"Let's see how this goes, I can always reapply next year."

"There is no next year," Ava answered. "This is your chance. If you squander this opportunity, that's it."

"Well, then at least you and your parents will judge me based on me. Not based on me professionally."

"They'll judge you based on the whole package. That's how they work. They think who you are is who you are at home or work or anywhere. They aren't going to see this as a noble gesture."

"Well, as long as _you_ understand."

"I don't. I don't understand. You and I might be over in a month. This position could change your life, define your career."

"There are other positions," Ethan argued.

"Not like this one."

"What about conflicts of interest?"

"They work _together_ now, and my dad worked _for_ my mom when they dated before."

"And that wasn't a problem for them?"

"Well…I guess it was, at the time," Ava admitted, "But they work together all of the time now. They're together going on twenty years. They've worked side by side almost the entire time. You think they'll tell you it's inappropriate for me to date you when I don't even work with you directly? Ethan…this is your decision. But you're a complete idiot if you give up this opportunity. You really are. You're a good guy, but you'll regret this."

Ethan swallowed nervously, "Every single person I talked to asked if I really thought I could work for them and date you. Like I was completely insane."

"You have to be completely insane to do either of those things individually," Ava responded.

Ethan hopped up, running for his luggage in Ava's room, pulling out a wrinkled dress shirt and tossing his tee shirt on her bed. "You have an iron?" he asked.

"Nope," Ava answered, shaking her head, "You don't have the time."

He had a panicked look on his face as he dressed, wearing sneakers since he was unable to find his shoes. Ava ran with him, showing him the fastest route down to the Center through yards and side streets until they reached the entrance. "Good luck," she said, looking at the panting, disheveled mess before her and smiling nervously at him.

Ethan went through the doors and into the large waiting room while he tried to fix his hair. Celia and Arlene were sitting behind the counter, he guessed more for fun than for function, as a young receptionist was running around frantically while the women chatted. The grandmothers looked at him suspiciously. "You're four minutes late," Celia said, looking at the clock on the wall.

"I had…I got…I'm…I'm…uhh…Are they still here?" Ethan asked.

The grandmothers pointed to House's office, giggling as Ethan walked away. "Good luck," Arlene offered.

Cuddy looked at Ethan with surprise when he entered. The young man was a mess. His hair was sloppy, his grey slacks were covered with sand and dust, his dress shirt was unevenly tucked in and he wore sneakers. His tie was perfectly placed, but its perfect placement seemed odd, given his otherwise haphazard appearance. "What happened?" Cuddy asked. "You do know that you have to spend a few years proving that you're a brilliant genius before you're allowed to show up for work in dirty clothes and sneakers, right?"

Ethan calmly told them the truth. He told them that he thought it might not be the right time for the job, but last minute he realized the error of his decision while talking to Ava. He apologized for being late and politely waited for their questions. He was proud that he'd calmly told them the truth, feeling that he'd done the right thing.

"You waited…until someone you were dating told you to show up for your fucking interview?" House asked loudly.

"Well…it _was_ Ava," Ethan answered cautiously.

"So…still…a woman you're dating, told you what to do professionally?"

"No, Sir, I…"

"I thought I told you not to call me sir," House asked through a thick blanket of irritation.

"Sorry. She didn't _tell_ me what to do…I asked her advice."

"It's not the asking of advice that's a problem," Cuddy answered, much more calmly than House, "But the fact that you bail when you think things are tough is a big disconcerting."

"_Disconcerting_?" House asked, as if Cuddy's suggestion was insufficient. "You're a coward. You get a hint of some sort of problem and you're out the door, ready to bail at the slightest inconvenience."

"Not inconvenience, everyone thought I was crazy, in over my head," Ethan calmly explained.

"You have to be crazy to want this job. We're always in over our heads," House was yelling, "And if you're so worried about what people _think,_ you'll never make it."

"I'm not worried about…"

"You are! You just said you are. You let a few people's opinions dictate the course of your life."

"Not personally…it was a professional consideration."

"It's the same you," House insisted, loudly questioning. "Here, at home, everywhere. I can't judge you in pieces. Your brain is yours and it's the same one, no matter where you go, or what you do. It's all a reflection on the same person. Are you the kind of guy who would run out on his kid? Would you give up on a case because it's quitting time and you want to go play some golf? Will you quit your job every few years, hoping for something easier?"

"I wouldn't do that"

"Are you sure?! Or do you have to go ask someone else what you would do?" House asked. "Don't walk around pleasing people. I don't want someone to agree with me, I want someone with a mind of their own. A brain I can count on."

House limped heavily over to Cuddy, "We chose the wrong one. I guess spinelessness wasn't conveyed on the resume."

"You didn't choose the wrong one," Ethan began.

"Looks like it to me. We were too easy on him," House insisted. "I tried to…back off…to let Ava make her decisions when I should have been the asshole I'm more comfortable being. Get out of here, we'll have to find someone with a brain."

"I have a brain," Ethan said assuredly and filled with frustration. He walked up to House, standing right in front of him. "I'm trying to make huge fucking decisions with no time at all. In the space of a few weeks, my whole life has turned completely upside down, and all I can think with every single decision I try to make is…am I doing the right thing? Because I'm trying really fucking hard not to fuck it up. Everything all along has seemed to be this perfectly place route in front of me. I knew where my residency was going to be, and it was easier than being here. I saw this program…and I took a chance. I don't know why. I threw the preplanned route out the window because I felt like this was what I had to do. And I was shocked to make the cut, to get selected to interview. And here I am. I've never even left the country before. And yes, on the way, I met a girl. I didn't know she was your daughter but it was stupid to forego that for a job. I sat up all night trying to figure out how to not fuck this up…and I made a choice. This morning, when it was too late, I realized I didn't have to make a choice."

"So you panicked under pressure?" House accused.

"No. I made a mistake. Haven't you ever made one? I made a mistake and someone had information…a perspective…that I didn't see. And when I heard that perspective, I realize I was wrong. I will make mistakes. Haven't you ever gone nuts over trying to do the right thing? This isn't picking a new paint color for my living room. This shit matters. All of it."

Ethan was far more disheveled now, angry, staunchly holding his ground. He added less angrily, "If you want people who are infallible…I'm not your guy."

House reached back on the desk and grabbed a case file, handing it without a word to Ethan. The young man looked confused for only a second before he opened the file. Ethan looked over it for a few minutes, leafing through several pages of test results and then said, "Joint pain, dry cough…fatigue. African-American female…thirty one years-old…I don't see a chest CT or lung function test. Could be cancer…could be sarcoidosis. I'd check for those first."

"That one's easy," House said, pulling away the file. "This is the one I wanted you to look at."

Ethan studied the new case, looking through scans, test results and blood work.

"Who ordered all of these tests?" Ethan asked. "I don't think most of them are even necessary. Did you check his ears?"

"His ears?" House asked, sounding displeased.

"It seems to me like an ear infection. Best to rule out the simplest possibility first, then move on to bigger things," Ethan stated confidently.

House and Cuddy exchanged a look and Cuddy said, "You have to start in June. We need you to agree to the entire term. You're the only one, there's no backup."

"Me?" Ethan asked, entirely astounded.

"You saw the first file…and figured out what information you thought you needed to make a diagnosis. You saw a cluttered file and waded through the unnecessary information to get to a simpler truth. You made a decision, but when someone had information that could cause you to rethink your opinion, you did. And you were smart enough to admit that sometimes, you're wrong and someone else might be right," House stated. "You're hired."

"Seriously?" Ethan asked.

"If you want it," Cuddy said, "but we need a definite. You have until tomorrow."

"I want it," Ethan said.

"In six years," House nodded, "No one has ever passed the ear infection test. They all come here, expecting something else, and their expectations cloud the simplicity of the answer."

* * *

A few days later, House and Cuddy took their children and Ethan to the airport. They were all going to Boston. In June, Ethan would become the resident. Jack was only visiting Boston for the week, but the following school year, he would attend college near his sister. After the plane took off, House looked at Cuddy, "We're alone."

"Just for the week," she answered as they went to the waiting taxi.

"I need your help. Can you monitor me to make sure my erections don't last for hours?"

Cuddy shook her head, and laughed softly, "I'll do what I can."

"A whole week, huh? It'll be nice to have the place to ourselves," House said, trying to sound unaffected.

"Better enjoy it while we can," Cuddy suggested. "Jack will be back next week…then he'll leave again, but Ethan will be here."

"Ethan can get his own place. He's not moving in."

"He'll still be around."

"At work. The old ladies can eat on their own, Kate and Mel are big girls. Once Jack moves to Boston, you can take your clothes off and you don't have to put them back on until he comes back for holiday break."

"I have to go to work, Mom's appointments, the grocery store…naked?"

"I'll get you a robe," he smirked.

They rode home in silence, settling in for the evening. Cuddy was more worried about House than she'd been for years. During the last few days, it became clear just how much he was going to miss the kids, so she walked around the living room, closing the blinds and taking off her clothes.

"What are you doing?" House asked with a pleased look on his face.

"We have an empty nest…let's christen it."

"Really?"

"I won't go to the store in a robe…but I'll spend the next few days in various states of undress…just for you."

"The empty nest thing…it's warming on me."

"Good," she smiled as she pushed him back gently onto the wide lounge.

She helped him out of his clothes and climbed on him after making sure the doors were locked. Somethings had changed. House took a pill every day to make sure that he never failed to become aroused. He'd started to years earlier when he didn't even have a problem, simply because the thought of having a problem terrified him. He was grateful that his wife still did yoga, that she was still strong and wonderfully bendy, because by that point, his leg was quite weak. They dealt with any of the obstacles life handed them as best they could. Their lovemaking was simpler, gentler. They loved to relive their glory days in whispers during foreplay, reminding each other of all of the moments that made their physical connection over the years so intense.

They both acknowledged that things weren't as charismatic as they had once been, but what they lacked in charisma, they made up for in connection. They knew each other perfectly well. They knew every word, move or suggestion that could make the other one crazy. Perhaps most surprising was just how much they still loved making love. It was over forty years since the first time they'd touched and nearly twenty since they'd started the incarnation of their relationship that actually worked and they still wanted each other.

They made love slowly in their newly emptied nest in the living room with promises to try other rooms on other days as they whispered reminders of just how much affection there was between them. Afterwards, Cuddy pulled a blanket over their bodies and sighed, "Maybe this new-found freedom will be good…maybe even great."

"Maybe," House yawned, wrapping his arm around her.

Cuddy tightened her grip around him as she leaned on him, "I know how much you're going to miss them…Are you going to be OK?"

"Yea, of course," House answered.

"Are you sure? I'm worried that you're going to feel…alone."

"Alone?" House asked, as he grabbed her ass with one hand, "_This_…is not alone."

* * *

-Epilogue-

Ethan eventually took over the Diagnostics Center. Ava worked in an office in the building doing research and writing books. Ava shied away from cases publically, but privately she solved more of them than she'd ever admit to solving. She traveled, lecturing and leading the way in Quantum Biophysics. They would be a couple for nearly twenty years before they would get married. Later in life, they adopted two teens.

After two years of college and without a degree, Jack decided to move back home and began working closely with Kate to bring art and music to the children who were victims of abuse. Although he had no degree, he was a natural with the children, inspiring many of them to embrace the arts. Jack did meet a woman that he swore was his true love shortly after he turned eighteen. Within a year, amidst a cacophony of protest from her family, Jack married her. They had two biological children and adopted three more.

Both Ava and Jack proudly kept pictures and mementos of Rachel around their homes.

A few days after House turned seventy-seven, grouchy, cantankerous, and far more determined than ever to _never_ die, he saw Cuddy holding their first grandchild, a robust, healthy, plump baby girl. "This is impossible," he insisted when Cuddy handed the little girl to him to hold. "I wasn't even supposed to have kids."

"It's a little late to deny paternity now," Cuddy teased.

It took four days to convince him that he wasn't just experiencing a Vicodin-induced hallucination.


End file.
